Things Not To Do On the NX01
by Stargazing BasketCase
Summary: Some things are just not on...
1. Part One

Title: **Things Not To Do On the NX-01**

Rating: K+

Summary: Some things are just not on…

Disclaimer: I own no Enterprise. Simple. And, honestly, did you really think I did?

This was inspired in part by Skippy's '213 Things…' If you've never heard of it, go google it. Trust me, its hilarious. There is also implied pairings in this: Trip/T'Pol and Malcolm/Hoshi to be precise.

Enjoy, and please R&R.

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Jon wasn't quite sure where it'd come from. Coffee in hand, he paused next to the sheet of paper tacked up in the Mess Hall, heading for his private dining room and scrambled eggs. He read the single line of scrawled handwriting on the page, and one eyebrow went up in a subconscious imitation of the resident Vulcan.

**1. Don't tease the Doc. He will get you back**

It was Trip's handwriting. Archer's lips twisted in a wry grin. Thatexplained the odd stains on the engineer's uniform when the two had met in the corridor yesterday evening. Trip had gone bright red at the Captain's queries, muttered something about 'unfair revenge', and ducked inside his quarters.

Archer smiled and headed in for his breakfast.

---------

There was an addition to the fledgling list by lunchtime. The Captain made a bee-line through the crowded Mess to the paper. It was Malcolm this time.

**2. Phase pistols – not toys. Understand?**

He smirked. That sounded… interesting. He ate his lunch in a hurry; the Brit was on duty on the Bridge. Archer was curious, and if Reed wasn't going to be forthcoming with what had happened, he could always order him.

---------

Crewman Rostov made the next contribution. Archer laughed as he read it.

**3. Don't 'borrow' Commander Tucker's spanner. Just… don't. It's not worth it. **

Jon shook his head. Trip really did love that spanner.

---------

The next one was up within hours.

**4. Think about it. If it sounds like French, but you're on a planet a _very_ long way from Earth, is it really_ likely_ to be French?**

Hoshi was getting antsy about the lack of appreciation for her skills again. Archer winced. Lieutenant Simmons from Engineering had decided to put his degree to good use on a recent away mission – he ended up being beamed back aboard with a broken arm and several first-degree burns. Apparently 'j'mappelle Jason', when said in a certain way, meant something rather rude in Xarian.

_You'd've thought my crew knew better than that after four years, _Archer thought ruefully, before heading to Sickbay to visit the hapless Lieutenant.

---------

There had been an impromptu feud between the Starfleet Security personnel and the MACOs: that incident prompted the next entry on the already-famous list.

**5. The Pyrithian Bat is not a method for revenge. Leave her alone. **

Archer grinned. He'd already gotten an earful about that from Phlox.

---------

The next day, Jon found himself writing up the next entry.

**6. Neither is Porthos. Leave him alone. **

Honestly, this was getting out of hand.

---------

Two more shot up after _Enterprise _took on board several new crewmen and MACOs. Apparently Phlox's new helper (the Doctor had finally caved and admitted that his workload _was _massive) could be quite… open in his appreciation for some of the female crewmember's attributes. Jon read the pair with a grin on his face.

**7. Don't hit on Commander T'Pol. I mean it. **

**8. Don't flirt with Ensign Sato. I have phase pistols. **

_Trip and Malcolm, _Archer thought, rolling his eyes and pulling the top off his own pen. He scribbled up the next one.

**9. We have a no-frat policy aboard this ship. Do I need to say more? **

Trip appeared beside the Captain and read the new addition. Jon gave his friend a meaningful look, and the engineer just laughed.

---------

Travis was next up.

**10. Knock it off guys. Or at least remember to booby-trap the correct console. **

Jon laughed. It was another result of the ongoing rivalry in the Security department. The MACOs had gotten onto the Bridge during the night shift in the hopes of sabotaging Lieutenant Reed's console. As a result of their slight… inebriation whilst attempting this, Travis had ended up getting a face full of cream, custard and industrial lubricant. Archer shook his head. He really needed to talk to Malcolm and Major O'Neill about this.

---------

The next entry was sort of mysterious. Archer recognised his Chief Engineer's handwriting, but didn't know what had prompted the command.

**11. Stop it. Now. **

His spanner maybe? No, Rostov had already warned the crew about that. Jon chewed his lip and crossed his arms. As if summoned, Trip stormed through the doors, pen in hand. He ignored Archer and scrawled the next one up.

**12. Replacing a superior officer's coffee with decaf is not funny. I know who you are, and I will find a way to get you court-marshalled if you do it again. For God's sake, have you seen me when I haven't had caffeine?**

The engineer capped his pen and turned to Archer. The Captain was trying not to grin. "Commander?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Hess did it," was all Trip said.

---------

Archer spotted Ensign Barker from Security writing the next one up.

**13. Challenging people to duels to the death went out with slavery. Stop it Michaels. **

The Ensign turned around and saw Jon, and went bright red. Archer just looked him, a smile twitching at his lips. "Jeffrey keeps getting annoyed with me," he explained, embarrassed. "He's got a strange sense of humour."

"I see."

Jon watched as Barker fled the Mess, and he grinned.

---------

Another away mission gone awry prompted the next entry. The planet in question had possessed a slightly dubious type of airborne pollen that had affected the landing party, consisting of Malcolm, Travis, Crewman Peters from the Science department and Sergeant Pargeter of the MACOs. The four of them had gone… Well, Archer remembered the word Mayweather had used in his report was 'loopy'. Whilst 'loopy', Travis had discovered an alternate use for Shuttlepod One.

**14. The shuttlepods are not to be used to 'smush' things. **

"Malcolm?" Jon asked, recognising his Tactical Officer's handwriting.

The Brit nodded at the Captain. "Commander Tucker complained quite profusely about having the clean the shuttles," he answered in a bland, professional monotone.

Archer laughed and headed for the Bridge, Malcolm in tow.

---------

The next one was kind of… scary. Trip's handwriting too.

**15. No duct-taping people naked to the warp core. **

"What the…?" Archer spun around and spotted the engineer in question as he retrieved his morning coffee from the dispenser. Trip saw the Captain's confusion and made his way to Jon's side.

"Sir?"

Jon tapped the list.

"Oh that." Trip took a sip of his coffee, making a face. "Starfleet coffee sucks." He took another mouthful nonetheless, and then returned his attention to Archer. "Malcolm's people got hold of Major O'Neill last night. I came in ta pick up ma report, which is now on yer desk, by the way, and spotted the poor fella, drugged up and taped to the side of my engines."

"Ah." What else could he say?

"Cap'n, you _really _need ta get this feud-thing sorted," Trip advised. "It's getting' ridiculous."

Archer rubbed his temples. "Don't I know it."

---------

The next three were Hoshi's, and all on the same topic.

**16. Look, I'm flattered, really, but if you don't stop, I'm going to have to tell Malcolm who you are. I'm not interested. **

Archer smirked. The Ensign had obviously gotten another secret admirer. _Honestly, I need to get the idea of a 'no-frat policy' through these people's heads! _Jon thought despairingly. He read down.

**17. Okay, one more chance! **

_Still _not taking the hint. Jon grinned.

**18. Malcolm, it was Pargeter.**

The Tactical Officer appeared beside Archer. His eyes narrowed as he read the latest three additions. The Brit's eyes alighted on the name. "Sergeant Pargeter," he hissed, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the Mess Hall.

Jon winced. _Sergeant? Great. A MACO. As if this damn feud wasn't bad enough already. _

---------

The Captain met Trip on his way into the Mess. Jon followed the engineer as he made his way straight to this list and began to scribble. "Another one?" he asked.

"Yeah." Trip pulled back, finished.

**19. Malcolm, I've told you about the duct tape! **

"Again?"

"Oh yeah." Trip shot Jon a rueful glance. "Why'd Hoshi have to tell him?" he bemoaned.

"Tell you what…" Jon snatched the pen out of his friend's hand and pulled the lid off.

**20. Duct tape must now be requested through either Captain Archer or Commander T'Pol and a valid reason must be given. **

Trip grinned. "Thanks Cap'n!"

"Don't mention it," Archer replied, still smiling. "But _you _are explaining that to T'Pol..."

---------


	2. Part Two

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter - you all make my day! I wasn't sure if I should've posted this, but people seem to like it! Anyway.

And the rating is going up this chapter, 'cause I figured no. 27 might get some little people shocked... But that might just be me. :D

Enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

At 0530, Trip Tucker entered the Mess Hall, stomach grumbling, in search of breakfast. He didn't get as far as food though; he caught sight of Malcolm writing on the List. He smiled to himself. That list had been one of his _better _ideas. The crew's morale had rocketed recently. The engineer stepped up behind Reed and read the next entry, smirking.

**21. Higher ranking officers are not to be referred to as 'Mother', 'Father', or any derivative of the two. **

"Newbies?" Trip asked knowingly.

Malcolm turned to face him and nodded wearily. "Crewman Harriman. Peculiar idea of respect."

Trip snorted with laughter and sauntered over to get breakfast.

---------

Tucker was taking a quick break at lunchtime when he noticed the next one. He instantly recognised Jon's handwriting.

**22. For God's sake people, no alcohol on duty! You're Starfleet officers! I should not have to tell you this! **

He grinned and went to find Hoshi. She was on the same Bridge shift as Jon today; she'd tell him what happened.

---------

The next one was in T'Pol's neat handwriting. He started at that; surely the list was 'illogical'? Whatever. He read down.

**23. Fraternization with alien females is not recommended. Please do not attempt to emulate Commander Tucker; he is an illogical role model.**

"Hey!"

Trip went in search of T'Pol.

---------

After returning to Engineering, Trip was back with another one.

**24. Don't stick basketball hoops to the warp engines. I will find you if you mess with my babies again. **

Malcolm's lips quirked upwards in a tiny smile. "Your 'babies'?"

Trip waved the pen at him in a distinctly threatening manner. "Watch it Lieutenant!"

---------

The next addition came after another disastrous away mission. Hoshi wrote it up.

**25. Don't make fun of aliens in funny clothes. Am I the only one on this ship with a grasp of the concept of a 'tribal elder'?**

Trip snickered. "Malcolm," he said decisively. "Must've been Malcolm."

The Brit stepped up beside him, a sick look on his face. "I don't want to talk about it."

Trip chortled. "This I _gotta _hear."

---------

He noticed the next one a couple of days later.

**26. If you're Scottish, and you're going to wear a kilt to celebrate St. Andrew's Day, please wear underwear!**

Trip recognised the handwriting, and laughed incredulously. "Travis?"

Jon appeared beside the engineer and grinned. "Crewman McArthur. Apparently he accidentally flashed Travis last night." The Captain winced, and then shook his head in despair. "Honestly. These people are Starfleet's finest?!"

Trip laughed. "Hey, you picked the crew!"

The Captain groaned. "D'you think I could have a second crack at that?"

---------

Malcolm next. And this one was _disturbing._

**27. No threesomes.**

"What the…" Trip decided he didn't want to know.

---------

T'Pol had made another entry when Trip next made it to the Mess.

**28. Please refrain from shooting your commanding officer. It is against Starfleet regulations. **

"And when was the last time _you _got shot?" Trip asked the list.

"I believe the human expression is, 'you don't want to know'," T'Pol remarked dryly from behind him.

---------

Trip caught Jon writing the next one up. It was a response to T'Pol's last contribution.

**29. Pay attention Trip. You might learn something. **

"Hey!" Trip exclaimed. "I only ever shot you _once!_"

Jon capped his pen and eyed Trip. "Twice."

Trip thought about that, and then conceded the point. "Twice."

---------

The engineer spotted Crewman Mitchell nursing bandaged fingers on his way out of the Mess. He paused, and caught the other man's eye. "What happened?" he asked, concerned.

In response, Mitchell jerked his thumb at the list. Trip gave him a sympathetic and confused look, and then headed for the list as the other man escaped the Mess. He laughed in realisation at the crewman's misfortune.

**30. Don't tease Phlox's pets. They bite. **

---------

There were two up the next time Trip checked.

**31. Don't flirt with Ensign Sato. Seriously. Lieutenant Reed really doesn't like it. **

Sergeant Pargeter, Trip realised. Malcolm had been kind of mad when he'd discovered who'd been chasing after Hoshi the past week and a half. From what he'd heard, Pargeter had narrowly avoided a trip to Sickbay. Malcolm's snarky response quickly followed the Sergeant's warning.

**32. Damn straight. **

Trip just laughed.

---------

T'Pol was writing up her next addition when Trip wandered into the Mess in search of food. Tucker, intrigued, went over to read the latest rule.

**33. Please refrain from calling Ambassador Soval 'Ambassador Green-and-Pointy'. It is disrespectful. **

"Although accurate," Trip commented. T'Pol shot him a glare. He smiled and took the pen from her hand, adding his own spin on the situation underneath.

**34. Yeah, Soval's one of the good guys now; we don't have to make fun of him anymore! **

" 'Anymore'?" T'Pol asked primly.

"Oh yeah," Trip replied with a grin, handing the pen back. "You don't want ta know half the names I came up with fer him the first year we were out here."

One eyebrow arched. "Indeed I do not."

His chuckles followed her out of the Mess Hall.

---------

Phlox's next entry was up that evening, in response to the growing MACO/Security feud (the MACOs had adopted the pilots and the Starfleet boys had drafted the Engineering team – the entire ship was suffering because of it).

**35. The animals in Sickbay are for medicinal purposes only. I don't care what the MACOs did; stop stealing my slugs! **

Trip laughed, and then turned to Malcolm. "Looks like we've got ta figure out some other ways of getting' back at them," he commented sagely.

Malcolm grimaced at the list, and then the two officers retreated to a back table to plot the join efforts of their departments.

---------

Jon was getting fed up with his crew's rambunctious activities.

**36. Don't. Take. Alcohol. Off. The. Ship. Come on people!**

Trip chuckled; Archer had been trapped on the last world they visited after a couple of the MACOs had introduced the natives to the joys of tequila. And the resulting joys of a massive hangover. The village leaders had held the Captain hostage until _Enterprise _handed over the ship's entire stock of aspirin.

Jon stepped up beside Trip. "For God's sake, it's like this ship is crewed by teenagers," he moaned. "It's ridiculous."

---------

**37. Don't bite the natives. **

"Travis?"

"Don't ask."

"Porthos. _Has _to be Porthos."

"Nope. Not Porthos, Commander."

"What then? _Who _then? Hey! Travis! Get back here!"

---------

The MACO-Navigation-combination had come up with a devious technique for getting into the Armoury and Engineering. And apparently it was all Travis's idea. They'd sent the girls in, dressed slinkily in ripped shirts and low-slung trousers, to flirt outrageously with the male engineers and security officers. This left space for the males of the group to sneak in and plant a whole series of traps for their hapless rivals.

This particular tactic had added two new entries to the list.

**38. Refrain from attempting to seduce Commander Tucker. Vulcans do not take revenge, but for this I am willing to make an exception. **

T'Pol.

And, more succinctly…

**39. Keep your hands off Lieutenant Reed. Or else. **

Hoshi.

Trip rested his hands on his hips and surveyed the list. "I don't believe this." A familiar laugh from behind him prompted him to roll his eyes. "Not funny Jon."

"It really is," the Captain replied.

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is. And anyway, you started it."

"Did not."

"Did too." Jon reached up and tapped a line further up the page. "You started it way back at number 7. Did you really think she wouldn't retaliate?"

Trip shrugged. "I hoped."

Jon snorted, and Trip didn't miss the evil grin that slid briefly across his old friend's features. "Hang on," the self-same friend said. "I've got an idea." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and yanked the lid off, his face the picture of innocence.

Trip eyed the pen dubiously, and then sighed. "What are you doing?"

"Got another one," was Jon's only reply before the pen hit the paper.

**40. Ladies, don't fight. Just keep them on leads. They won't get into trouble that way. **

Trip's mouth fell open.

Jon doubled over laughing.

---------


	3. Part Three

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the past 2 chapters; reviews are love, and you make me feel loved. -grins-

Enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Malcolm hadn't been sure that this 'list' of Trip's was going to catch on. It seemed like one of the engineer's usual hair-brained schemes – in other words, _bad news. _But now, the Tactical Officer's mind wasn't quite as clear cut on the matter. It _was_ a good way to embarrass/reprimand colleagues regarding their… less than stellar habits. A _very _good way, in fact. Such as his latest contribution.

**41. For God's sake Trip! Put some clothes on!**

Once was acceptable. Twice was tolerable. Three times…? _More?_

No. Malcolm was getting fed up with the engineer saving the ship in his blues. It was the second time this week, and that was just _ridiculous._

_---------_

At lunch, another one had arrived, in Trip's messy scrawl.

**42. "Daniels stole my report to save humanity" is not an excuse. **

"Please tell me you didn't _use _that," Malcolm moaned to his recalcitrant friend.

Trip shovelled a forkful of pie into his mouth and gave Malcolm a look, one that the Tactical Officer understood all too well. The Brit groaned and put his head in his hands. "It wash an eshperiment," Trip mumbled around the remains of his dinner.

_---------_

By that evening, the Captain had evidently seen Trip's message. Malcolm noted with amusement that the previous number 42 had been scribbled out and was now barely readable. Jon had added his own version.

**42. You are not allowed to put confidential information on the list! I should not have to say this, Commander! **

"Huh," Trip said. Malcolm suppressed a smirk.

_---------_

Phlox chipped in the next one.

**43. Away missions. Not the best times to be getting a pet.**

Lieutenant Henderson had taken a liking to a strange sabretooth-tiger-like creature on the last M-Class world they visited, and the sabretooth-tiger-like creature had taken a great liking to him. It had stowed away aboard the shuttlepod and now refused to leave Henderson's side. Five inch fangs and _very _bad breath deterred anyone from trying to remove it from the ship.

Malcolm grinned. Henderson was one of Trip's engineers. The Tactical Officer saw a shift in the balance of power of the Feud coming soon; the dubiously-named 'Tiddles' would see to that.

_---------_

Hoshi wrote the next line.

**44. Do not teach little fluffy aliens to swear. It's just funny, and then they come to me to ask for a translation. **

Malcolm suppressed a laugh. "And exactly how did you handle that?" he asked her with a grin.

Hoshi rolled her eyes. "With difficulty."

_---------_

Ensign Mak came up with the next one; Malcolm figured it was in response to the recent incursion by the Orions. The female complement of _Enterprise _had a particular loathing for the green-skinned species, for reasons apart from the obvious alien attitude of 'ooh look, _Enterprise_, let's try and blow it up'. The fact that almost the entirety of the male grew went gaga whenever the green beauties boarded. The Ensign's plea was quite appropriate.

**45. Sexy alien girls. No. Please. No.**

The green devils _were_ bloody persistent, Malcolm gave them that.

_---------_

The next one was just… confusing.

**46. Black holes are not gateways to the land of the happy people with yellow faces. Stop saying that they are. It's annoying. **

"_Travis?" _

_---------_

Malcolm spotted Trip writing the next one up.

**47. Decon. Not the best place for a lovers' quarrel. **

"Trip?" Malcolm was hard pressed not to laugh.

"You do _not _wanna know."

_---------_

Away missions, Malcolm reflected, were becoming something of a by-word for danger and screw-ups. He kept this in mind as he finally gave in to temptation and wrote up the one point that had been nagging him for four years.

**48. Don't get caught by the bad guys. Captain, Commander, this means you. **

_---------_

Jon's handwriting answered him a few hours later.

**49. Take your own advice Lieutenant. **

Malcolm glared at the list. "Not fair."

_---------_

It was the Captain again with the next one; Malcolm read it with a smile twitching at the corner of his thin lips.

**50. Snarky comebacks. Just no. **

The Tactical Officer knew where this one came from; a conversation between the Captain and Chief Engineer on the Bridge that consisted entirely of stern looks (Jon) and snide quips (Trip). Malcolm smiled at the memory.

Hoshi appeared beside him, and grinned at the list. "Looks like the Captain doesn't appreciate Commander Tucker's sense of humour," she remarked offhandedly.

Malcolm just shook his head.

_---------_

Travis was next.

**51. Don't quote 'Star Wars' on away missions. Seriously. **

Something to do with the newfound 'Cult of Vader' on the last inhabited planet they'd visited, based around very odd family relationship. And the new range of 'Death Star' interstellar cargo ships originating from the same planet. And the fact that one of that world's most eminent scientists had nearly blown himself up whilst trying to build a functioning lightsaber from scraps of radioactive metal.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. Not the smartest of planets.

_---------_

Another medical warning next, courtesy of Doctor Phlox.

**52. Leave the local flora alone. Ask Commander Tucker why. **

Malcolm turned to Trip, who promptly flushed with embarrassment. The Brit eyed the engineer's vivid violet nose, fluorescent orange ears and neon pink hair. Trip seemed to shrink under his friend's scrutiny. The Tactical Officer shook his head and smirked. "Honestly Commander," he reprimanded sagely. "Someone needs to chain you to the ship."

"Ah, can it, Malcolm," Trip mumbled, his bright red cheeks contrasting nicely with his multihued face.

The snap of a camera was the engineer's only answer.

"_MALCOLM!" _

_---------_

_Enterprise _crossed paths with an Andorian ship two days later, coincidentally (or not) the same vessel commanded by Shran. The still-one-antennaed Andorian found Trip's colour change _hilarious _and Malcolm had successfully traded the pictures he'd taken for a slender bottle of Andorian Ale that was now sat, pride of place, on his shelf.

But, beside acute embarrassment for the engineer, that meeting sparked three new entries for the list. Anna Hess had written up the first of the triumvirate.

**53. Just because they call us 'pink-skin', doesn't mean it's a good idea to call them 'blue-skin'. Or anything like it. **

An Andorian engineer had made it to Engineering while Trip was hiding in the maintenance shafts. Lieutenant Hess had intercepted the alien and been subjected to a barrage of criticisms of the 'puny' ship and the 'ignorant, pink-skinned' crew and a veritable _deluge _on the inefficiency of the engines.

Anna, indignant on behalf of the absent Commander Tucker, had replied with something along the lines of, "Well, f--k you, blue boy!"

A fistfight had ensued, and both of them had ended up in Sickbay.

When Trip had been dug out of the woodwork and told about the incident, he'd run the length of the ship to check on his 2IC. She was unconscious, as was the Andorian, and Phlox had tactfully neglected to mention to the already-irate Commander what had sparked off the incident. After all, criticisms of the engineer's 'babies' violated number 24.

Trip _had_ found out though, and Shranhad ended up on the sharp end of the Chief Engineer's tongue. Although it _had_ been rather hard to take him seriously with his present… colouring.

Malcolm smiled. Good memories.

He scanned down the list, and snickered. He had only heard vague rumours regarding this one, written in Travis's handwriting.

**54. Don't lose bets with the Andorians.**

Something involving running naked around D-deck twice, whilst waving a pink and red feather boa in the air and yelling incoherently. Malcolm had nearly choked on his Earl Grey at _that _mental image; the Andorians were certainly… inventive with their forfeits.

The next was in T'Pol's impeccably neat script and was in response to Mayweather's warning. Malcolm had wondered when the Vulcan had even _spoken _to one of their blue-skinned visitors, but apparently she had.

**55. It is inadvisable to win either. **

All that Malcolm had been able to eke out of Trip was that the First Officer had had to seek refuge in the Chief Engineer's quarters from the Andorians who were roaming the ship looking for her, convinced she'd swindled them. And that he'd had to borrow Tiddles off of Henderson to guard the door. Not that the creature had minded; Trip fed him well.

Malcolm laughed softly to himself and headed for the Mess Hall doors. It had been an eventful few days.

_---------_

Trip made the next contribution a few days later.

**56. Don't touch it if you don't know what it does. Seriously. **

And the Commander had just been changing back to normal flesh tone too, Malcolm mused. The ears were a pale orange now, and his hair was back to its regular dark blond. But, after the last eventful voyage of the ship, Trip was sporting a set of neon green fingernails and a large yellow blob on the end of his re-purplified nose.

The engineer's curse had been loud enough to be heard back on Earth.

_---------_

Hoshi next.

**57. If it seems too good to be true… Well, for us it probably is. Really. Four years, and no one except me has realised this?**

Malcolm looked over at the linguist. "Where'd that come from?"

She grimaced. "Long story."

He smirked. "I've got time."

_---------_

The Feud had been dying down recently – the MACO/Navigation boys hadn't made a move since Trip's face became brighter than a traffic light. But Malcolm had spotted Major O'Neill and Travis whispering together at a table in the Mess recently, and he suspected something was up.

So he made a quick trip to Engineering and then bolted back to the Bridge, trying not to grin like a loon.

As a result, two hours later a new rule went up, courtesy of a highly irritated Captain Archer.

**58. Glue on chairs. For God's sake, no. What are you people, five? **

Malcolm just smirked. Five years old or not, Travis was still stuck to his seat, fingers welded solidly to his thighs, thanks to the industrial-strength glue the Chief Engineer had leant the Tactical Officer. The Doctor was currently on the Bridge, trying to figure out how to un-stick the pilot.

"Score," Malcolm murmured with a smarmy grin.

He glanced towards the galley. His eyes lit up with malicious glee. Acting like a five year old? May as well go the whole way.

_---------_

Barely an hour later, Jon was back.

**59. No food fights on the Bridge or I will give you a bedtime and cut your allowance! Act like you're five, you'll be treated the same! **

Malcolm crossed his arms across his chest. There _were_ benefits to acting like a five year old. He grinned. All was well.

_---------_

The MACOs and the pilots were getting antsy. A few days had gone past without anything much happening; the ship was quiet, and they were in empty space. So O'Neill and Mayweather had put their heads together and plotted.

Thus the next line sprang up, courtesy of the good Major.

**60. Silly string. Engineering. Commander Tucker. Bad move.**

Malcolm winced. When he and Trip had arrived after their opponents 'master plan', they had been greeted by a smirking O'Neill, a laughing Travis, and a multicoloured Engineering. O'Neill had remarked that it matched Commander Tucker's face. Trip had just stood there, staring around, swaying woozily. Malcolm had been convinced that Trip was actually going to collapse. Five minutes they stood there like that. _Five minutes. _

The Brit smirked to himself, before heading out of the Mess.

And then… And then, five minutes after the pair had entered Engineering, Trip had gone absolutely_ ballistic. _

Now, three days later, the pilots and half the MACOs were still in hiding.

_---------_


	4. Part Four

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

By the way, I got the phrase 'the Disaster Twins' (you'll see!) from evay's site, It's very funny; I recommend it.

Reading through this, I've just realised what an incredibly disturbed mind I have… That's kinda weird. LOL! And, by the way, number 75 is a nod to **IchthusFish**, 'cause I was inspired by her reviews! -grins- Thanks!

Enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

To begin with, T'Pol had failed to see the logic in this 'list' of Trip's. Starfleet regulations prohibited many of the comments written on the paper; she could see no point in reinforcing them by phrasing them in an amusing fashion. But now, almost a month after the first rule had appeared, the logic was becoming slightly clearer: crew morale had increased exponentially after the inclusion of the list in daily routine.

Upon her arrival in the Mess Hall at precisely 0614 hours she noticed another inclusion to the rapidly growing collection of purportedly-humorous reprimands. She collected a mug of green tea from the dispenser and made her way across to the paper.

**61. Don't prank-call the Klingons.**

One delicate eyebrow arched at the recognition of Ensign Sato's handwriting. She was unaware of anyone on the crew 'prank-calling' the Klingons. She resolved to address her inquiry to the Ensign later in the day.

---------

She was in the Mess with Trip when he noticed the next one. With an exclamation of delight he grabbed her hand and she allowed herself to be pulled over to the paper. Trip snickered softly beside her as she read the next item.

**62. Cheesy pick-up lines stay onboard.**

"Wonder what Travis's been up to now?" Trip murmured softly, a grin plucking at his lips as he squinted at the helmsman's handwriting.

'_Cheesy pick-up lines'…?_ T'Pol turned to Trip, eyebrow raised, expecting a rapid clarification. He took in her expression and promptly went bright red as he fumbled for an explanation.

---------

As far as she could tell, the next line was also from Ensign Mayweather.

**63. Watch your language. Seriously.**

T'Pol was aware of the story behind this remark; it had forced Ensign Sato into giggles on the Bridge earlier in the week. Mayweather had been on the recent away mission to Ianus III, when Corporal Tyler had stepped in a pile of something that the Ensign had surreptitiously left out of his report. The indigenous peoples had overheard the Corporal's resulting virulent curse, and become incensed. Apparently, uttering foul language was a capital offence on Ianus: the away team had had to be transported back to _Enterprise_ before the Corporal's impending castration.

The Science Officer let a hint of a smile creep across her lips. Despite the illogic and danger of the situation, the entirely of the human crew had been in hysterics when they'd found out, and their amusement was contagious.

She exited the Mess Hall promptly, returning to her quarters to meditate.

---------

Away missions, she reflected, were a constant source of inspiration for this 'list'. She surveyed the newest addition, and held back a sigh of mild irritation.

**64. When will people realise that it's a bad idea to let Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed go on an away mission together?**

Ensign Sato's observation was entirely accurate; the two officer's fourth disastrous away mission in the last fortnight had occurred just yesterday. T'Pol arched one eyebrow as she considered the possibilities of filing a request with Captain Archer for the two men to be banned from participating in the same away mission. She had no desire for either of them to come to serious harm – the paperwork involved was quite tedious.

---------

Forty-two hours and _another _away mission gone awry later (something involving a number of hungry goat-like creatures and an irate farmhand, according to the Commander's communiqué), another rule arrived on the list, and T'Pol read it with great interest, immediately recognising Ensign Mayweather's rounded script. It was in response to Ensign Sato's previous comment, and T'Pol fought to stop the corners of her lips twitching upwards in amusement.

**65. Jesus, again?! Somebody chain the Disaster Twins to the ship! **

The… Disaster Twins?

If T'Pol had been human, she would have smirked. The name was quite appropriate.

---------

According to Trip's grumblings, the MACOs and the Navigation department had agreed to lower the intensity of the 'feud' inherent between them and the Security and Engineering side. T'Pol had been following this conflict with great interest; she had heard of human 'prank wars' before, but had never seen one in action. It was most… enlightening. Now, instead of adhering Ensign Mayweather to his seat or draping Main Engineering in a Earth substance known as 'silly string', the MACOs and pilots had resorted to a more… disturbing tactic, leading to Captain Archer's current reprimand.

**66. Don't make voodoo dolls of Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker. **

T'Pol had asked Trip to explain the concept of a 'voodoo doll' to her, and she had found the concept quite disturbing. Why the pilots and MACOs had decided to construct crude representations of the Lieutenant and the Commander and stick long sharp objects in them was quite beyond her. She was glad Captain Archer had requested them to stop.

---------

Apparently, Trip and Reed had different ideas, although she had warned them otherwise. And the Captain wasn't amused.

**67. Or Major O'Neill and Ensign Mayweather. **

---------

More of these 'voodoo dolls' had been appearing all over the ship, and that morning, Captain Archer had called all four main culprits into his Ready Room. His irate shouts had been clearly audible on the Bridge; all activity had ceased in order to listen in. T'Pol regarded the next line with mild amusement. Apparently, that had been the excuse Major O'Neill had given the Captain in an… unguarded moment.

**68. I don't care if it's your 'religion'. Stop it. **

Trip appeared beside T'Pol and wrinkled his nose at the list. "Not fair," he mumbled.

"I believe the most appropriate phrase," T'Pol said, turning to face him, "would be 'I told you so'."

He pulled at face at her.

---------

**69. Alien hallucinogens. Avoid. **

Doctor Phlox's latest contribution. T'Pol pursed her lips lightly. She would have thought that that particular rule would be rather obvious, but apparently not to the unfortunate Crewman in Sickbay who was embroiled in a delusion that he was a 'vampire' named 'Dracula' and that he wanted to 'suck your blood'.

T'Pol raised one eyebrow. This was an illogical ship.

---------

The next time T'Pol entered the Mess Hall she immediately noticed the conspicuous cluster of Captain Archer, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather around the 'list'. She moved silently over to them, intrigued.

Ensign Mayweather was writing on the list.

**70. Always have a Plan B. **

He handed his pen to Lieutenant Reed, who took the pilot's place and began to write.

**71. And a Plan C. **

It went to Trip.

**72. And a Plan D, E, F, G, H… **

And finally to Captain Archer.

**73. In fact, just keep going to the end of the alphabet. You just might be safe then. **

The Captain capped the pen and handed it back to Mayweather. The four men surveyed their work, and rapidly dispersed, satisfied.

T'Pol examined their additions with curiosity, and arched one eyebrow at Trip, who stood next to her. He chuckled at her mildly bemused expression. "We're gettin' some new kids from Starfleet," he explained with a smile. "Figured it might be nice ta give 'em some tips."

"Indeed," she allowed, and then the two of them made their way out of the Mess. Trip was still smiling.

---------

The most recent away mission had gone remarkably well, apart from one small discrepancy before the team had even settled into the shuttlepod. T'Pol found herself writing the next reprimand up, at the behest of Captain Archer.

**74. Lieutenant Henderson, please refrain from attempting to take 'Tiddles' on away missions. It is not permitted. Please leave him with Commander Tucker. **

It was slightly disturbing, actually. Tiddles and Commander Tucker had 'bonded' to an alarming degree after the night the beast spent protecting her from the Andorians. The feline being now had three separate homes; Henderson's quarters, Engineering, and Trip's quarters.

If T'Pol had been prone to such emotions, she would have felt slightly threatened by the carnivorous creature.

---------

Doctor Phlox offered the next regulation.

**75. If you insist on reading highly comedic books late at night, please try to keep the hysterical laughter to a minimum. I am receiving an increasing number of complaints, and I don't need to remind you that lack of sleep has a detrimental effect on human physiology. **

T'Pol decided it might be best if she didn't inquire.

---------

Trip wrote up the next one, as a 'dig' (his words) at Lieutenant Reed.

**76. When you see Malcolm and Hoshi going into a room together, I'd run far away, very fast. It gets noisy. **

T'Pol was fairly sure that his comment was somewhat inappropriate. She was also fairly sure that the Lieutenant and the Ensign would not appreciate it.

---------

Sure enough, Reed's reply was up within hours.

**77. The same goes for Commanders Tucker and T'Pol… Seriously, the walls shake. **

T'Pol flushed bright green.

---------

The childish rivalry between Navigation/MACOs and Engineering/Security had resurfaced after a brief lull following the voodoo doll incident. The latest occurrence involved golden syrup, peacock feathers, Phlox's stolen slugs, a hungry Tiddles, a fleeing Major O'Neill and an irate Ensign Mayweather. T'Pol had decided it would be best not to listen to the details. But that incident had prompted the next rule, after Major O'Neill had ended up in Sickbay. Captain Archer was becoming most irritated.

**78. Henderson, you were allowed to keep that damn cat, but if you don't keep it under control, I'll shove it out an airlock! **

T'Pol reflected that that _would _be an appropriate way to end this 'war'. The endless feuding was beginning to detract from ship's performance.

---------

Lieutenant Henderson had written up a protest the next time T'Pol checked.

**79. Tiddles is not a cat. And he is under control. **

Trip appeared beside T'Pol as she read Henderson's rebuttal. He snickered, and pulled a pen out of his pocket. "Jon's just jealous," he confided to T'Pol.

An eyebrow quirked skywards. "Indeed." Trip smirked at her, and began to scribble.

**80. Jon, if you wanted to join in, all you had to do was ask!**

The Chief Engineer stepped back and laughed. He glanced over at T'Pol and grinned at her expression. "I've gotta go find the Cap'n," he quipped. "Looks like he's been feelin' left out; no wonder he's been so grumpy!"

T'Pol watched him as he practically skipped out of the Mess. Her forehead furrowed slightly. It was hardly fair that the Captain would participate with 'The Feud', as the crew had dubbed this infantile endeavour. He had more resources available than either the MACOs or the pilots; the Engineering/Security team would have an unfair advantage.

The corner of her mouth quirked up imperceptibly. It was highly possible that a talented Science Officer and a skilled Communications Officer would aid Major O'Neill and Ensign Mayweather immeasurably. And healthy competition was _good _in a relationship…

T'Pol exited the Mess Hall at a brisk walk, in search of Ensign Sato.

---------


	5. Part Five

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - you all make my day! I wasn't entirely sure how this would be received... Thank you!

Enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Sad as it sounded, Hoshi Sato's commonplace visits to 'the List' were rapidly forming an integral part of her day. The little compilation of comments never failed to amaze her; the utter stupidity of some of the people onboard _Enterprise_ was just astounding. Well, either they were astonishingly dense or just incredibly accident-prone.

Or, just plain annoying, she added as she skimmed over the latest line of text.

**81. Playing the 'pipes at 0130. Outside the Captain's quarters. Even when pissed out of your head. No. **

The linguist smirked as she recognised the elegant scrawl of Crewman McArthur. The passionately-patriotic Scotsman had become slightly… tipsy, and, in a fit of twisted logic, had decided to expose Captain Archer to the delights of traditional Scottish music, via a set of very badly tuned bagpipes.

Hoshi grinned. The Captain had _not _been amused, and McArthur, after he'd sobered up, had gotten… How had Malcolm described it? Oh yes: 'the bollocking of his life'.

She rolled her eyes. Brits, of all nationalities, were strange.

---------

The Asian Ensign was in the Mess again at lunchtime, and spotted Commander Tucker as he scribbled furiously at the List. "Trip?" she called, rising from her decimated pasta and weaving her way through the tables to the engineer's side. He grunted in irritation at her and scowled at his addition to the paper. She bit her lip in amusement, and peered over his shoulder.

**82. Stop it with the pregnancy cracks, okay! It was four years ago; do you people ever give up?!**

Hoshi watched as the irate Commander stormed out of the Mess Hall, and giggled. Silly string, glue and Tiddles were all very well, but for _real _annoyance, a few well-placed snide comments were impossible to beat. And Trip was such an _easy_ target. The linguist grinned in satisfaction; T'Pol's suggestion to join the Feud on the side of the MACOs and pilots had been quite the stroke of genius.

And it was fun, too.

---------

Hoshi suppressed a smirk at the next one, written up in Captain Archer's hurried hand.

**83. When being questioned by the local dictator/evil overlord/fanatical rebel, the name of your favourite fictional character is not an appropriate answer. **

The leader of the Kareas Revolutionaries, when he contacted _Enterprise _to arrange a trade for Trip and Travis, had been most curious about the mystical powers the 'legendary and all-powerful Oz' possessed, and what role he played in human society. Captain Archer had gone bright red and had to bluff his way through the resulting conversation.

Hoshi smiled at the memory. Sometimes, Bridge duty was fun.

---------

The next morning Malcolm made the next contribution.

**84. "What does this do?" is not something Lieutenant Reed wants to hear. **

Hoshi rested her hand on his arm and smirked up at him. He rolled his eyes at her, bruised shadows beneath the dark irises. She propped her chin on his shoulder and smiled angelically. "What happened?"

"You _don't _want to know," he moaned. "I spent the whole _night_ cleaning the Armoury up after Harriman's magic fingers 'slipped'."

Hoshi laughed. Malcolm just glared at her.

---------

When the linguist made her way back to the Mess for lunch, there was another line on the List. It was in T'Pol's neat handwriting, and in response to Reed's earlier comment.

**85. Commander T'Pol is not overly fond of this phrase either. **

If it got T'Pol 'irked'… Hoshi wasn't sure she wanted to know what'd happened.

---------

It seemed the Vulcan had sparked something off.

**86. Commander Tucker doesn't want it said around him anymore. **

Hoshi bit her lip.

---------

**87. Don't mention it in Captain Archer's hearing. **

The Communications Officer rolled her eyes and pulled her pen out. Every single member of the crew would be writing the same thing up at this rate. It was her duty to put a stop to it.

She began to scribble.

**88. Okay, we get the picture, nobody wants to hear that. I think that's enough! **

---------

Travis had evidently been thinking along the same lines as her.

**89. Spoilsport. **

Hoshi giggled.

---------

It was another… interesting away mission that sparked the Captain's next quibble.

**90. We do not have a theme song, and if we did, it would not be 'I Know a Song That'll Get On Your Nerves'. **

As far as Hoshi knew, it'd been the disastrous combination of Malcolm and Trip… again. They'd been bored on a routine away mission, and had resorted to singing in order to irritate the other members of the team. It had worked perfectly, and when they'd been yelled at to shut up, they'd just switched songs, as the Captain had helpfully pointed out.

**91. Or 'The Llama Song'. What are you, three?**

Hoshi grinned, and sauntered out of the Mess, singing softly under her breath. "Here's a llama, there's a llama, and another fuzzy llama…"

---------

Phlox made the next complaint, a couple of days later, after the recent 'medical emergency' that had gotten him running the length of the ship at 0010.

**92. Toxic chemicals are not to be used in pranks. And making Captain Archer, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed think they were is not nice. **

Hoshi smiled slightly, and turned to her partner-in-Feud. "That was a very good idea of yours," she complimented.

T'Pol arched one eyebrow slightly, in a gesture Hoshi had decided to interpret as a Vulcan smile. "It appears so," she replied blandly, "if it has warranted an inclusion on 'the List'."

Hoshi smiled. The Science labs had plenty of empty chemical bottles hanging around, and making Malcolm, Jon and Trip think they'd been doused in toxic waste had been… entertaining, to say the least. If a little mean. And as far as she knew, they still hadn't worked out who had been behind the elaborate set-up (the MACOs and pilots had provided a very effective smokescreen for their newly-acquired prank-masterminds). She and T'Pol were safe, and still working.

The Ensign gestured to the door, and T'Pol inclined her head slightly. The two women made their way out of the Mess in friendly silence, and Hoshi let a grin creep across her lips. Who would have thought Vulcans had such devious minds?

---------

Hoshi was beginning to suspect there was some meddling omnipotent being messing with away missions. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of said missions she'd been on that had been completely uneventful; no injuries, no hostile species, no… mishaps. At least this time it had been human stupidity at fault, not bloodthirsty aliens. _Trip's _human stupidity as well: it was his handwriting on the sheet.

**93. Always look before you leap. Literally.**

Trip Tucker + inattention + ditch full of green slime.

Fill in the blanks.

Hoshi laughed.

---------

She knew _exactly _where the next one came from. It had been her idea, after all, with a little prompting from Major O'Neill. She was willing to suffer a little personal embarrassment to get on Malcolm's nerves, and it had worked; it was his handwriting up on the list.

**94. Betting on colleague's sex lives is not allowed. **

Rumours of a certain pool on a certain subject involving a certain Armoury Officer and a certain Communications Officer created by a certain Chief Engineer abounded at the moment. O'Neill and Travis had seen to that. The four of them had figured that in-fighting was a good way to get ahead in the Feud. And it had worked – Trip and Malcolm weren't speaking to each other in a fit of childish pique and Jon was left to coordinate two departments' efforts. He wasn't doing too well.

Hoshi smirked. Misinformation was such a wonderful thing.

---------

The linguist discovered the next one when she was having dinner with Malcolm in the Mess Hall. It appeared that Trip had been at it again – he really _was _trying to turn _Enterprise _into a Warp 5 comedy show. Phlox was testy at the moment, his sleep cycle was nearing, and Trip's shenanigans were _not _appreciated by the good doctor.

**95. Not only do we not have a theme song, we don't have a motto either. Especially not 'Today Is a Good Day to Die'. I have enough things to do in Sickbay! **

Hoshi turned her attention to Malcolm. "Did you have anything to do with this?" she quizzed, already knowing the answer.

He did his best to look innocent. "Would I ever?"

Hoshi rolled her eyes. "Looks like you and Trip patched up your differences then," she quipped.

He grinned. "What would give you that idea?"

She pointed a finger at him, and smirked. "I've got another one for you," she said softly, and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

His face lit up, and he grinned. "I'll pass it on to Trip," he replied excitedly, before scurrying out of the Mess.

---------

The next day, Phlox was back.

**96. Neither is it 'Rock Is Dead, Long Live Paper and Scissors'. **

Hoshi bit her lip to stop her laughter.

---------

Travis came up with the next one, after a particularly eventful few days.

**97. The next time Commander Tucker gets possessed by an alien wisp, don't chase after him singing the 'Ghostbusters' theme tune. **

Hoshi had seen that particular phenomenon after the engineer had been de-wisped; the sight of a harassed Trip running from a group of close to twenty off-duty crewmen with a look of abject terror on his face had been hysterical. She pulled out her pen.

**98. Even if it is hilarious. **

---------

Malcolm made the next contribution, a couple of days after the _Ghostbusters_ antics had died down.

**99. We are not here to "spread the peace and love". I am not a bloody hippie. **

_No, he's certainly not, _Hoshi mused. _The man's a walking weapon's locker. About as far from a 'bloody hippie' as you can get! _

---------

It was Major O'Neill next, after Trip had gotten inventive with the EV controls and managed to simulate an Andorian winter in O'Neill's and Travis's quarters.

**100. Messing with the environmental controls in the name of the Feud is not fair. And why just me and Travis? What about T'Pol and Hoshi?**

Hoshi's eyes went wide. _You stupid MACO! _Her hand flew to her pocket, groping for a pen.

She was too slow; Jon appeared beside her, his gaze already scanning the List. He stilled at the two names at the end, and then, slowly and deliberately, turned to look at her. "Ensign?" he questioned, voice icy.

Hoshi gaze flickered back up to Number 92. She swallowed. "Captain?" she asked in a _very _small voice.

He offered her a glacial smile. "Would you know where Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker are?" he asked threateningly.

"No sir," she offered meekly.

"Very well," he answered, and stalked out of the Mess. He glared at T'Pol as she entered, and she merely gave him a barely-confused expression in return.

The doors slid shut, and T'Pol made her way over to Hoshi. "Ensign?"

Hoshi gestured to the List: T'Pol read. The Vulcan's eyes widened fractionally. An equivalent of running around the Mess screaming profanities, the linguist presumed.

Hoshi chewed her lip lightly as they stood in silence. And then she smiled in glee. She led T'Pol over to the nearest table and they sat. "Time to get out the big guns," she murmured conspiratorially. "You remember Risa?"

T'Pol nodded slightly.

Hoshi's grin widened. "Did you ever find out what Malcolm and Trip got up to…?"

---------


	6. Part Six

Disclaimer etc.: See 1st chapter.

Sorry about the delay in between postings – things were pretty hectic around here. Extra choir practises, coursework looming, my room being repainted… Gah, it sucked, and I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. –bites lip with worry– Tell me if it sucks badly.

Number 114 was inspired by a review I got from **Glory1863**. Thanks!

And the Green Day song mentioned in number 119 is _not_ for the sensitive. It is corruptive, perverse and dodgy. And hilarious. Just a warning. And I'm serious here!

Enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Travis was up early for once, albeit reluctantly. He wandered into the Mess just before 0545, still rubbing sleep from bleary eyes. His cabin was absolutely _freezing_; a casualty of the Feud. Not that the pilot minded – the prank war that spanned the ship was the most fun he'd had in years. With an unfocused smile on his lips, the Ensign spotted a new addition to the all-powerful List. He smirked, clarity flooding into his dark gaze, and ambled over.

**101. When confronted by the local Balrog-esque creature, don't plant a stick in the ground and yell, "You shall not pass!" **

It had been Trip's fault really, Travis reflected. The engineer had managed to schedule a run of _Lord of the Rings _movies for Movie Night – as far as he knew, there had already been three swordfights, five bow-making classes and Hoshi's regular lessons in Elvish created aboard the ship as a result.

But then someone had taken the craze on an away mission (gone awry, as usual) and _Enterprise_'s crewmembers had been beamed back aboard, slightly singed, and wearing massive grins.

Travis rolled his eyes, and headed over to get an early morning coffee.

---------

The next one was Feud-related, but not in quite the way Travis wanted. He'd desperately wanted to use the bombshell Hoshi and T'Pol had dropped in his and O'Neill's laps, but the other three had outvoted him – wait. So he had to settle for the cause of _this_ rule instead.

**102. Don't spam Captain Archer. **

The pilot had been on duty the last time the Captain had checked his messages. The startled squeak as _Enterprise_'s commanding officer had seen his inbox of fifteen thousand, two hundred and ninety-one messages had been worth the sleepless night.

Travis narrowed his eyes at the List. _Archer _was now off-limits, but there were a couple of other officers who were prime candidates for irritating, in the name of the good-ol'-Feud.

He went to find Major O'Neill.

---------

**103. Or Lieutenant Reed. **

Twenty thousand, seven hundred and forty-three.

---------

**104. Or Commander Tucker. **

Travis grinned. That had been their crowning glory. Thirty-nine thousand, eight hundred and twelve spammed messages, all of which the Commander had to go through to fillet out the genuine ones.

Trip had gone after them with a blowtorch. Literally.

---------

It was an interesting away mission that saw rise to the next gem, in Captain Archer's scrawl.

**105. Don't volunteer for lap-dancing duties at the local club. **

Travis laughed. Hoshi had assured him that it was inadvertent, and that dancing virtually naked at gunpoint _hadn't _been her idea of fun.

But the pilot had seen Malcolm's face and he knew that the Tactical Officer had a different view on the situation entirely. Hoshi and guns: both the Brit's loves in one place.

"Good memories."

Travis took one look at Malcolm's dreamy features and snickered.

---------

A temporary truce had been called the night before in the Feud. Apparently, Lieutenant Reed and Major O'Neill (the man's Irish ancestry had only just cropped up to Travis a few hours before) had more pressing needs to see to – needs and obligations that overruled their Feud-induced rivalry. The pair had met up with Crewman McArthur and, the last the helmsman had seen, had headed of to the Mess Hall, working each other into a righteous frenzy as they went.

The Captain had _not _been a happy camper when he discovered what the three had gotten up to.

**106. I don't care if you were "defending your nations' honour" – don't get into brawls with the Germans! **

Travis grinned.

The fiercely-patriotic Englishman (Reed), Irishman (O'Neill) and Scotsman (McArthur) had met _Enterprise_'s four German officers in the Mess Hall. Insults of epic proportion had been flung (mostly relating to parentage, sexual habits and the first two World Wars) and eventually several security personnel and MACOs had had to be called to drag their respective chiefs off the Germans when a full out punch-up had started. McArthur they'd left alone – he'd gone into a kind of crazed blood-lust and ended up chewing a table leg, muttering about Robert the Bruce and Bonnie Prince Charlie.

The helmsman shook his head before heading for the doors. _Enterprise _really was crewed by loons.

---------

Travis was on his way to the Bridge next time he spotted a set of additions to the List.

**107. No quickies in Engineering. **

It was Trip's handwriting, and that was a slight relief. Travis had a sneaking suspicion that the Commander had a strange kink for warp engines… Well, warp engines and T'Pol. And considering most of the time the engineer called said engines his 'babies'… Travis shuddered. He didn't want to think about it.

**108. Or Sickbay. **

Phlox this time – Travis smirked at _that _image.

**109. Or the Armoury. **

Malcolm next. Travis got a disturbing image of phase pistol wounds in rather sensitive areas. He winced.

**110. Or the Bridge, for crying out loud! **

Jon: Travis smothered a hysterical laugh. _Who the hell tried to get a quickie on the _Bridgehe thought wonderingly. _And when?!_ He cast around for someone to ask, and spotted a familiar face entering the Mess.

He jogged away from the List. "Hoshi!"

---------

It had been a foolish decision on the Captain's part that prompted the next rule. Henderson (and Trip) had been complaining that Tiddles wasn't getting enough exercise – yes, the beast had the run of the ship (no one was exactly going to _deny _him access; one snarl ensured that), but the nagging pair didn't seem to take that into account. After much irritation on the Chief Engineer's part, Archer had caved.

Thus Travis found Henderson writing up the next one, on behalf of his errant pet.

**111. "It was staring at me" is not an excuse. Tiddles knows. **

"Tiddles _knows_?" Travis inquired off-handedly.

Henderson glanced back at the ebony-skinned pilot. "Tiddles knows," he confirmed.

Travis grimaced at the departing engineer. A disadvantage of the Feud – the engineering crew wouldn't tell him anything. He went, again, in search of Ensign Sato.

---------

Travis was with Malcolm the next time he spotted a new rule. He practically dragged the stuffy Brit over to the List.

**112. You are not allowed to shoot the irritating scientists.**

The pilot frowned in confusion (and a healthy amount of amusement) at the Captain's handwriting. "What's that about?" he wondered out loud. "Who shot a scientist?"

Reed let out an embarrassed cough, went bright red, and scurried off.

Travis watched him go, bemused. And then smirked.

Malcolm was far too trigger-happy sometimes.

---------

The Andorians were back, and Shran was only too happy to invade Archer's hospitality once more. _Enterprise_'s favourite blue-skinned friend had made himself comfortable in the Captain's Mess, and the pair of them had gotten exceedingly drunk last night – leading to the next rule, courtesy of a sleep-deprived Commander Tucker.

**113. Yodelling at 0145. Even if you're a Captain. Or an Andorian. No. **

Travis smirked. His quarters were on a different deck to Trip's, so he hadn't been treated to the "Jon 'n' Shran Show" (as the engineer had grumpily named it), and had gotten a good night's sleep – he'd finally managed to bribe an Engineering Crewman to restore the heat in his and O'Neill's quarters.

The pilot whistled happily. He might not have heard or seenthe pair's drunken night-time antics first-hand, but the security cameras did have _excellent_ quality footage. And a lot of it, too. Good blackmail material.

But that wasn't the only new rule that had come out of the Andorian incident. The next one came from a slightly ruffled Lieutenant Anna Hess – she'd been emulating her esteemed Commander and hiding from the Andorians in the maintenance shafts, with Trip himself running interference from a… persistent admirer.

Prompting the next one.

**114. Never say "F--k you, blue boy" to an Andorian. They have very dirty minds, and very long memories. **

The same Andorian engineer that Anna had encountered (and beaten up) the last time _Enterprise _met the antennaed-aliens had sent the engineer a rather… risqué message. He'd taken her insult as an 'overture to mating' (as he'd put it) and had gone searching for her. She hadn't appreciated the gesture. And had hidden.

"We need to invite the Andorians over here more," Travis commented sagely to Hoshi as she giggled softly beside him. "They're kinda fun to be around."

Hoshi just rolled her eyes.

---------

Travis was seriously beginning to doubt the sanity of the crew. Like, _really _doubt. And apparently Captain Archer was having the same thoughts.

**115. Don't wear crude badges on away missions. **

Crewman McArthur (the ringleader in the little band of crackpots, Travis mused) had developed a certain obsession with rude badges. He'd paraded through the latest first contact with a massive one on his chest that read _DON'T SWEAR AT ME YOU B-----D._

The locals had taken huge offence, and McArthur had received yet another reprimand from his irritated Captain.

---------

**116. Or T-Shirts. **

McArthur was looking for ways around the rules – Jon was annoyed.

"The man's bonkers," the Captain commented in exasperation – Travis nodded in total agreement.

---------

Travis snickered when he saw the next one – still on the McArthur theme, this time in Malcolm's handwriting.

**117. Crazy Scots are no longer allowed on away missions. **

The pilot reflected on the hypocritical Lieutenant for a second – Reed's track record with away missions topped McArthur by miles, and almost rivalled Commander Tucker's. Travis pulled out a pen.

**118. Crazy Scots? What about crazy Brits? **

Malcolm appeared, as if by magic, beside the Ensign. He read Travis's addition. His eyes narrowed. He glared at the boomer.

Travis swallowed nervously. He'd already been chased with lethal weapons once this month.

---------

An _interesting_ away mission spawned the next reprimand – Jon was, once again, supremely annoyed.

**119. Just because our culture is less sexually repressed than others doesn't mean you can tell the locals our Global Anthem is 'Like A Rat Does Cheese'. Or give it to them to listen to. **

Admittedly, Trip had been slightly drunk at the time. But he hadn't been too pissed not to wince at the Captain's twenty-minute-long tirade.

---------

O'Neill, Sato and T'Pol had finally caved to Travis's insistent nagging. The four of them had put together a message, long and detailed, with a few pictures the four had managed to glean from a friend of Travis's on Risa. And had sent it to the entire crew, _except _Trip and Malcolm.

Ergo, the pair had been wondering why everyone was smirking and giggling at them for the past few days. Until Travis wrote up the next rule.

**120. Trans-gender alien thugs – a definite no-no. **

The pair in question appeared next to him as he capped his pen. Trip frowned. "What the…"

Malcolm was slightly quicker on the uptake. He turned slowly to Travis, dumbstruck. "How did you…"

Travis smirked knowingly.

"What?" Trip demanded, still clueless.

Malcolm looked at the Chief Engineer, and said one word. "Risa."

Trip gaped at Malcolm. Then at Travis. Then at the List. Then at Malcolm again. "How…"

It took a moment for the stunned pair to recognise that the entire Mess Hall was falling over themselves laughing at them.

---------


	7. Part Seven

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Right. 122 was inspired in equal parts by **HoVis**'s review, and Casino Royale (Daniel Craig… -drools-), 123 was from **burrcat213** (tweaked slightly), 127 was from **Glory1863** (again!), and I just loved the ones I was sent by **panfriedcatfish**, so 132-136 got in there! And the rest are mine!!

And 126-129 are inspired by my recent SG:A kick... I'm obsessive about it at the moment. It's funny.

Anyway! On with the rules!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Doctor Phlox was second to arrive in the Mess Hall early one morning. A cheery, abnormally wide grin was fixed on his features as he ambled through the doors. "Good morning, Commander," he greeted chirpily, his attention drawn to a familiar tousle-headed engineer nursing a mug of coffee beside the infamous List. A noncommittal groan was the only response he got.

Phlox smiled even wider, and moved over to Trip's side. Or, more accurately, to the _List's_ side. Usually, when _Enterprise_'s Chief Engineer was up this early, he'd been writing up a new rule. The Denobulan Doctor wasn't wrong.

**121. "S--t happens" is not an appropriate response to a sleep-deprived superior officer. **

Phlox shot an inquisitive look at the Commander. Trip yawned, and gestured vaguely with his mug. "Ensign Armstrong," he mumbled sleepily. "Did summat wrong." He yawned. "Dunno what." He rubbed his eyes. "Covered quarter o' Engineerin' in purple gunk." Tucker blinked sleepily. "Tha's what he said."

The doctor patted Trip reassuringly on the shoulder. "Why don't you go get some rest, hmm?"

Trip ignored him, wandered over to a table, sat down, and fell asleep.

Phlox tutted.

---------

The Denobulan chuckled amiably when he saw the next one, up after the latest Movie Night. Ensign Sato was apparently becoming rather… irritated with Malcolm's MI6 antics.

**122. Lieutenant Reed is not "Bond, James Bond", no matter what he says. **

Phlox could see the similarities between the two – British, dark-haired, stoic… And both with a heady love of weaponry. He could readily understand where such interesting delusions were coming from, although he probably should check for any mental problems the next time the Tactical Officer was in Sickbay.

Ah, _Enterprise _was a most insightful vessel.

---------

Days later, the next was up, in Captain Archer's annoyed scrawl.

**123. Not only are you not allowed to shoot the irritating scientists, you are not allowed to play Quasar with your phase pistols, even if they are only set to stun.**

Phlox turned attentively to the trigger-happy Lieutenant in question, and waited.

Malcolm coughed, and turned pink from his collar to his hairline.

Phlox merely smiled mildly.

---------

Phlox had been present when the cause for the next one had happened. He had had no idea that the crew of Starfleet's first Warp 5 vessel could be so… _emotional_.

**124. You are not allowed to sing songs from _Les Misérables _in the Mess Hall early in the morning. **

Everyone in the Mess Hall after Ensign Howe's heartfelt rendition of _Empty Chairs At Empty Tables_ at breakfast had been left in tears. Including Ensign Mayweather, and Captain Archer.

The Denobulan had to admit that the song had been quite… moving.

---------

The Feud sparked the next one, in a roundabout way. The tapes that Ensign Mayweather had gotten of the… what was the phrase Commander Tucker had used to describe it? The "Jon 'n' Shran Show"? Yes, that was it. Well, Mayweather had conspired with O'Neill, T'Pol and Hoshi and they'd managed to pipe it to every single console on the ship. At once.

The Captain had been… remorseful, to say the least. Prompting the next one.

**125. Don't drink anything blue – particularly with Shran. **

"Although it can be rather amusing for the rest of the crew, hmm?" Phlox commented to a haggard Archer.

The Captain merely buried his face in his hands and muttered something about yodelling and strangled puppies.

---------

The next three were apparently written up at the same time, and they were… interesting, to say the least.

**126. Please refrain from referring to Commander T'Pol as either "Jaffa-girl" or "Ishta". **

From the lovely Commander, evidently. And…

**127. Quit calling me "Wraith-boy"!**

**128. Or "Michael"!**

Tucker, the writer in question, stood beside Phlox, shuddered. "Commander?" the Denobulan inquired.

"One o' the new recruits," the engineer explained wearily. "Likes some old sci-fi show called _Stargate _or _Atlantis _or somethin'."

Phlox's smile became vaguely confused. "I'm not sure I understand."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Apparently, T'Pol and I look like a couple o' the actors that were in it. This got spread around… and we got nicknames."

"Ah." Phlox nodded in understanding.

"Which reminds me," Trip muttered, and dragged a pen out of his pocket. Phlox watched with interest.

**129. Will someone delete that damn show from the database? Please?!**

"Commander?"

The faint strains of singing reached Phlox's ears. Trip winced, and the Denobulan listened intently.

"_Jaffa-girl and Wraith-boy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…" _

Tucker nodded wearily at Phlox's wryly amused expression. "They wrote a _rhyme_."

---------

A week and a record _eight _disastrous away missions later (Phlox wasn't entirely sure how Captain Archer had managed to fit eight away missions into seven days – he was quite sure Daniels had been involved in some way, shape or form), Lieutenant Reed went on a record writing spree – five rules all up at once. Quite remarkable, actually. Phlox joined the cluster of giggling crewmen around the List, peered over a particularly tall engineer's shoulder and began to read the Brit's rants.

**130. Don't look conspicuous: it draws fire. Commander Tucker. Please pay attention. **

"Trip got shot," Malcolm commented from his position behind Phlox, "again." He sighed. "It's getting a _tad_ annoying."

**131. Professionals are predictable, it's the amateurs that are dangerous. Commander. **

"Again, he doesn't seem to realise that walking target is _my _job," Malcolm added wearily. Phlox chuckled.

**132. Don't draw fire, it irritates the people around you. And the people around you generally have phase pistols. **

"Commander Tucker?" Phlox asked.

"Nope," Malcolm replied. "Not this time." He smiled smugly. "Major O'Neill. Stupid MACO."

Phlox stared at him.

Reed chuckled manically. "He was making too much noise. So I shot him."

Phlox rolled his eyes, something he'd picked up since the List went up, and turned back to the rules.

**133. Make it too tough for the enemy to get in and you can't get out. I really shouldn't have to say this. **

Malcolm nodded sagely. "Major O'Neill. Again."

**134. The easy way is always mined. Always. **

Lieutenant Reed rolled his eyes. "Travis."

Phlox chuckled.

---------

The Captain was up next.

**135. Crew quarters are not to be used as boarding kennels. **

"Captain?"

Archer sighed. "I make _one _exception for some killer kitty, and we end up with a crocodile, a koala bear, a giraffe and an honest-to-God _dinosaur_."

Phlox patted the beleaguered Starfleet officer on the shoulder in sympathy.

---------

**136. Neither is the galley. **

Jon rested his forehead against the wall. "Chef likes animals. And not just to cook."

---------

**137. Or the cargo hold – for God's sake, we are not intergalactic pet carriers! **

"They just don't get the picture!" Jon yelped in vain.

"Never mind, Captain," Phlox reassured absently, his mind on other things. _Enterprise _as a menagerie… An interesting thought. The crew's reactions would be amusing, to say the least, and Phlox had always been fond of practical jokes…

Phlox wandered out of the Mess Hall, pondering that in great detail.

---------

**138. Stop it, Phlox! **

The Denobulan snickered evilly. Hoshi gave him a funny look.

---------

The Disaster Twins' antics were the cause of the next two, up a couple of days later, courtesy of an irritated Commander T'Pol.

**139. Cutlery is not to be taken on away missions. **

**140. Neither are any foodstuffs that might induce hyper-activity. **

Malcolm had managed to get Trip hopped up on caffeine and sugar on a diplomatic away mission. The engineer had bunny-hoped the entire way around a tour of the locals' capital city. And then, upon being greeted by official dignitaries, had whipped out a spoon, with Malcolm snickering in the background, and yelled, "Fear the spoooooooon of doooooooooom!" He'd then collapsed, and had to be beamed back to Sickbay – where he still was, strapped to a biobed, giggling and trying to catch imaginary butterflies.

Apparently.

T'Pol was _not_ amused.

Captain Archer, Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Sato, Ensign Mayweather and Doctor Phlox himself, on the other hand, found the engineer's behaviour _hilarious_.

---------


	8. Part Eight: Christmas Special

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

A special part, for Xmas ! Thanks to **HoVis **for the idea and Number 146!

Read, enjoy, laugh (maybe), review, and have a great Christmas and a happy New Year!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Captain Jonathan Archer was usually a pretty amiable character. Easy-going (unless his ship was attacked), lenient (unless his crew were on a practical joke kick… again) and generally a nice guy to spend time with (unless Porthos had been at the cheese, in which case he got a little cranky). He was a good friend, a good Captain, and an okay cook.

_But. _

There were two days of the year aboard _Enterprise_ when Captain Jonathan Archer became grumpy, miserly and his crew generally tip-toed around him. And those two days were the 25th and 26th of December. In other words, he got particularly cranky around Christmas Day and Boxing Day.

And, if you read on, you might find out why Captain Jonathan Archer got like this, in this special holiday edition of _'Things Not To Do On the NX-01'_.

---------

Jon closed his eyes as he walked into the Mess, early on Christmas Day. He fumbled his way over to a cup of coffee (very strong – he was going to need it) and drank the whole thing in one gulp.

He mustered the courage to open his eyes, and did so.

And groaned.

The Mess Hall was properly Christmased-up. "Oh God," Jon moaned, taking in the holly, tinsel, candles, Christmas cards, fake reindeer, miniature Santa Clauses and abundant sprigs of mistletoe.

Trip appeared beside his Captain, a wide grin on his face. "Merry Christmas, Cap'n," Jon's friend chirped.

The Captain groaned, poured himself another mug of coffee (even stronger) and buried his face in it. _Please no pranks today, _he prayed. _Please God, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, George Washington, Surak, the spirit of Admiral Forrest, _Ambassador Soval _for cryin' out loud! No pranks! Please! _

---------

Jon sighed, a mere twenty minutes later, and pulled out a pen before the List. "You're gonna be getting a few more additions before the week's out," he grumbled to the paper, before beginning to scribble.

**141. No ambushing superior officers carrying coffee with Santa hats.**

Travis had surprised Jon outside the turbolift to the Bridge by plopping a Father Christmas hat on his head. The Captain had jumped, squealed, swore at all the deities (or not) he'd earlier prayed to, and spilt boiling-hot coffee all down his jumpsuit. _Boiling. _Literally.

He glared at the suitably sheepish Ensign. "I swear," he said dangerously, "if you've affected my ability to have kids, there will be _nowhere_ in the _universe _you can hide."

Travis gulped.

---------

Hours later, he had the next one, after a particularly… interesting incident.

**142. No mistletoe on the Bridge.**

Hoshi had pinned a sprig of said plant up above her station. She'd invited Malcolm over to look at something with her.

Unfortunately, apparently Malcolm _really _got into the Christmas spirit. Even if he refused to wish people "Merry Christmas" and always said "Happy Christmas". Very British.

But anyway. Malcolm and Hoshi. And mistletoe.

They'd ended up making out on the floor.

---------

And then, Jon had the smarts to make a trip down to Engineering. With T'Pol in tow.

**143. Or in Engineering. **

Trip. And mistletoe. And T'Pol.

Jon groaned. _Oh God… _

It had been worse than Malcolm and Hoshi. He hadn't known T'Pol could get so… free.

---------

The Christmas party that evening had been the cause of the next lot. Jon had been dragged (literally) along by Trip and Phlox (the latter had an unusual fondness for Terran festivals of _all _kinds – the doctor was a terror around Valentines Day).

He sighed, and tried desperately to forget the night's… festivities. After failing, he began to write.

**144. No spiking the eggnog. **

He really should have expected that one. And he _really _should have guessed that the culprit would've been McArthur. Although, he probably could have been excused from guessing who the victim would've been. Really, he thought Trip could hold his liquor better than that.

Apparently the engineer's drunken conga, tango, waltz and break-dancing could testify to his ignorance in that area.

**145. Yes, mistletoe is a tradition. But sometimes the Captain doesn't want to make out with you underneath it. **

Jon shuddered.

Major O'Neill got drunk, and randy, very easily.

**146. Tiddles is not allowed near the Christmas tree. **

Henderson had brought aforementioned killer kitty to the party. Tiddles had stalked the fake fir tree warily for about half an hour.

And had then pounced. Everyone within a ten metre radius had been showered with chewed green plastic and coloured broken glass from the destroyed tree and baubles. However, when the fairy from the top had landed on Tiddles' head, the cat-esque creature had yelped with fear, tucked its tail between its legs and hidden behind Henderson for the rest of the party.

That same fairy was now tucked away in Jon's cabin – an anti-Tiddles device was a _good idea_ in the Captain's mind.

**147. Telling T'Pol that she is the spitting image of one of Santa's Little Helpers is not very sensible. **

The Vulcan had taken that comment (said by a mildly drunk Travis) as a grievous insult. No one was particularly sure why.

The pilot had ended up face forward in the punch.

**148. Trying to re-enact the Nativity Story is all very well, but someone really should have figured that alien camels were a bad idea. **

He had to give it to them; the animals had been _very _camel-like.

Even if halfway through the evening they'd started to breathe fire and had nearly set the Mess Hall on fire.

On the plus side, at least Tiddles had gotten his first square meal in a while.

**149. "Feed the World" is a bad idea unless you are trying to make everyone aboard cry. **

Hoshi had produced a recording of the original recording from the twentieth century and had played it late in the evening, when half the crew were drunk and the other half were melancholy. Eighty-plus people singing their hearts out to "Feed the World" had caused those same eighty-plus people to burst into tears.

Jon included. It had been _very _emotional.

---------

"I don't get why I have to do it _now_," Jon complained. "Christmas was yesterday."

Trip propped his hands on his hips. "That's not the point, Jon," he reprimanded. "You're the Cap'n. It's your _duty._"

Jon wagged his finger at the engineer. "Nuh huh, Commander," he retaliated. "_This _was never in the job description."

"C'mon Cap'n!" Trip wheedled. "It'll be _fun!_"

"For you, maybe."

"It'll be good for morale!"

Jon acquiesced to that one. "Not for _my _morale."

"Crew morale, then." Trip was bouncing up and down on his heels. And grinned. _"Please." _

Jon rolled his eyes, and caved. "Fine."

Trip grinned even wider.

"But!" Jon stopped the engineer mid-bounce. "I have one more thing to write on the List before I do this."

Trip nodded, and followed his Captain over to the List in question.

**150. Captain Archer only wore a fat Santa suit and ran around the decks shouting "Merry Late Christmas! Ho ho ho!" and throwing out candy canes at 7:30 on Boxing Day because Commander Tucker made him do it. Okay?! **

---------


	9. Part Nine

Disclaimer etc: see 1st chapter.

Numbers 167-170 were inspired by burrcat213 - thanks! And number 166 is dedicated to my friend Louise, and her unhealthy obsession with penguins...

Oh, and I don't own _Blackadder._ L'il extra disclaimer!

Thanks for all your reviews, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Trip was third in the Mess Hall early one morning. That was odd in itself – he was usually the first one up, for reasons he had never quite figured out. He frowned at the other two in the Mess as he snagged a mug of wake-up caffeine. Understanding dawned as the two of them scribbled at the List.

After the pair exited the Mess (Hoshi and Liz Cutler, he noticed) he jogged over to the List, munching contentedly on a piece of toast.

**151. You are not allowed to form a men-only society called "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen". **

Trip choked.

The girls weren't supposed to have found out about that.

**152. 'Cause you're not. **

He snickered.

"Fair enough," he murmured to himself, before heading out and down to Engineering.

---------

The next one was up when he wandered in on his break, in T'Pol's impeccable handwriting.

**153. The Captain is no longer allowed to refer to either gazelles or water polo whilst corresponding with Starfleet, the Vulcan High Council and/or newly-met alien races. **

Trip bit his lip.

Jon appeared beside him, arms crossed and one eyebrow cocked wryly. "Funny sense of humour," he remarked to the engineer.

"Cap'n!" Trip exclaimed, turning to face his friend. "She's _Vulcan. _They don't _have _a sense of humour…" A smile toyed at his lips, and Jon groaned in recognition of what was to come. "They don't even enjoy water polo!"

Jon glared at his Chief Engineer. "Hah, hah, Trip. Very funny."

Trip chuckled. "Soval's face was a picture, sir."

Jon rolled his eyes.

---------

Early evening, the end of Trip's duty shift, saw the next rule.

**154. You are not allowed to smuggle armadillos aboard the ship. **

Trip stared at the List. He blinked. "What the…"

He went in search of Hoshi.

---------

**155. Or anything like them. **

Trip frowned, and went to look for Jon. Hoshi hadn't known anything, and it was Jon's handwriting on the List.

He wanted to know what the hell was going on.

---------

The next big event all started when the newest bunch of crewmen arrived. One of them brought an entire series of an old television show as part of his personal belongings – it was called _Blackadder Goes Forth. _And it was soon to be the bane of all aboard.

Within a week it had been loaded onto the main computer, and _everyone _on board had seen it – even T'Pol, after much cajoling from Trip and Hoshi.

Trip's next visit to the List was after most of the _Blackadder _madness had died down – hence the rules he saw.

**156. You are not allowed, even whilst under enemy fire, to contact the ship to ask for backup and yell "Where are you, you b-----ds!" at Captain Archer. **

Trip snickered. He remembered _that _particular incident very well – he'd been on the Bridge at the time, and Major O'Neill's stressed demand over the comm link had had him in giggles all the way back to Engineering.

Jon, on the other hand, had gone an angry red and started muttering dangerously about the 'evils of British comedy'.

Apparently.

**157. You are not allowed to tell Lieutenant Reed that his entire culture is based on the toilet, even if "that German dude on _Blackadder _said it first". **

**158. He won't like it. **

"He didn't," Travis commented, newly appeared beside Trip.

Trip glanced over at the pilot, and raised his eyebrows in an expectant expression.

"I was kinda drunk, okay!"

The engineer smirked and turned back to the List.

**159. Will you lot stop quoting _Blackadder_?!**

Travis nodded in agreement at the Captain's empathic statement. "I don't think those insecty aliens liked being told they looked like some 'asthmatic ants with heavy shopping'," the Ensign said thoughtfully.

"And I think T'Pol got a little confused when Hoshi shouted 'hurrah with highly-polished brass knobs on'," Trip added, "even if she'd just managed to finish a Super-Super-Sudoku."

"What was it she called it?" Travis asked.

"An 'Über-ly Super Sudoku'," Trip answered, grinning.

Travis laughed "Oh yeah." He thought for a second. "And I _don't _think Shran liked it when the Captain told him to 'shut up and never say anything again as long as you live'," he offered, with a grin.

The two men laughed, and Trip turned back to the List, to the final clump of rules.

**160. Lieutenant Reed is not "Captain Edmund Blackadder". **

**161. Captain Archer is not "General Sir Anthony Hogmanay Melchett". **

**162. Commander Tucker is not "Private Baldrick".**

**163. Will you stop comparing the senior staff to _Blackadder _characters! It's not funny anymore! **

Trip bit his lip. "Cap'n's not happy."

"Neither would you be, if you'd just been told you laughed like a demented sheep," Travis pointed out. "Or had a name like _that._" He frowned at the List.

"True." Trip nodded in agreement. He grinned, and the pair of them left the Mess and headed to the Bridge.

---------

Trip himself wrote the next one up.

**164. The engine is not an alternative to food. Even if you do have to look after Tiddles. **

After being severely irritated by the incessant grumbling he couldn't quite pinpoint all morning, he'd called his engineers to a halt and demanded to know what the noise was.

Henderson had meekly raised his hand – it had been his stomach, growling so loud because Tiddles kept stealing his food.

Trip had rolled his eyes, thrust the hapless Lieutenant a sandwich and informed him that he would, once again, be starring on the List.

---------

Jon was next up, in response to Trip's reprimand.

**165. Hypocrite. **

Trip grinned. "And proud."

---------

And the next one was mildly _scary. _

**166. The sexy penguin of death lives on Earth, not in your bathroom. Okay?!**

Trip turned to the writer, stood beside him. "_Malcolm?_"

Reed merely smiled.

---------

After being very nearly run over in the corridor on his way to the Mess, Trip scribbled the next one up.

**167. You are not allowed to skateboard through the corridors! **

"Sir?" Hoshi asked, smirking beside him.

Trip rested his forehead against the bulkhead. "McArthur," he moaned. "Why?"

Hoshi patted his shoulder in commiseration.

---------

**168. Neither are you allowed to roller-blade on top of the torpedoes! **

"We need to do something about that barmy Scot," Malcolm commented, in his most uptight British tone.

Trip nodded.

And they began to plot.

---------

McArthur made his first addition a couple of days later.

**169. You're not allowed to chase a poor wee Crewman around on a souped-up motorbike just 'cause he likes tae have fun! **

Trip bit his lip, trying not to laugh.

Jon folded his arms and shook his head. "Trip…"

"Cap'n?"

"You're also not allowed to terrorise junior crewmembers."

Trip acted offended. "It was Malcolm's idea!" He smirked. "And, after all, it _was_ Crewman McArthur."

Jon grinned, and pulled a pen from his pocket.

**170. Even if said 'poor wee Crewman' is Crewman "Prank-King" McArthur! **

And Trip laughed.

---------


	10. Part Ten

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Yeah, I apologise in advance for this chapter. Me and my friends were a _little _high – and number 174 is dedicated to my mate Georgia and her sexy nose, and was concocted by my friends Zoë and Louise… And the phrase in number 177 is written on the wall of my Maths classroom – I don't think my teacher knows…

And has everyone stopped reading this? I just wondered, 'cause nobody is reviewing, and I feel unloved. -sniffs-

R&R is _much_ loved, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Malcolm Reed had decided, some time in the past four or so years, that the crew of the starship _Enterprise _was absolutely raving mad. No ifs, no buts, completely _insane._ Naturally, being the stoically British patriot that he was, he'd tried to resist the pull of impeding craziness as long as possible.

But, as ever, his willpower hadn't been quite strong enough. So now, he looked for every new addition to the all-powerful List with an enthusiasm that bordered on adored.

So it lead that he was in the Mess Hall at 0450 on morning, reading the latest offering.

**171. Shimmying along the hull in an EV suit is not advisable. Or allowed! **

Malcolm quirked one eyebrow at the recognition of Captain Archer's defiant scrawl. He would have thought that Jon would be happily used to his crew's lunatic tendencies, but the man still protested at every turn. He would have guessed that Archer would have just stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed very loudly when confronted with Travis's latest misdemeanour, but no.

Evidently Jonathan Archer was turning out not to be that kind of Captain.

Malcolm smirked and wandered off to the Armoury for a surprise inspection of the night shift.

---------

The next one was up after an interesting occurrence in Engineering, in Trip's messy scribble.

**172. Don't start fights over who gets the last custard cream! **

Malcolm snickered.

Trip, stood beside him, gave him a stern look. "It's _not _funny," he replied grumpily. "We nearly ended up with an overload 'cause Jenkins was too busy scrappin' with Henderson."

"Of course," Malcolm said graciously, still smirking.

Trip waggled a finger in his face. "Just you wait, Mal," he warned. "I heard one o' your men brought a packet o' Jammy Dodgers with him from Earth."

Malcolm's eyes went wide, and he ran out the Mess.

---------

**173. Or the last Jammy Dodger – especially if you're trained security personnel! **

---------

Trip's latest misadventure made the List next time Malcolm checked. As far as the Brit could remember, the locals on the last planet they'd visited had been particularly taken with a certain aspect of the engineer's features, leading to the next one.

**174. Noses may not be bridesmaids, no matter how sexy they are. **

Malcolm smiled. That had been an _interesting_ away mission.

---------

Malcolm caught Hoshi writing the next one up. He glanced over her shoulder at it, and flushed.

**175. Attempted regicide is bad. **

She turned to him and propped her hands on her hips.

Malcolm went even redder. "It was an accident!" he protested.

She smirked, shook her head despairingly, and headed out of the Mess.

He grimaced after her.

---------

The next one was a little… odd.

**176. You are not allowed to paint llamas all over the windowsills on D-deck. **

Travis frowned at the line. "We have paint onboard?"

"We have _windowsills_?!" Malcolm exclaimed. "Where?!"

---------

And the _next _one was odder still.

**177. You are not allowed to write "Maths is s--t" on the doors to the Science Labs. **

Malcolm's eyebrows shot up. "Someone _did?_" he asked incredulously.

"Indeed," T'Pol commented from beside him. Her expression was tightly controlled – she looked… Malcolm guessed the right phrase was 'extremely irked'. "I was not pleased."

_I'll guess, _Malcolm thought, taking a wary step away from the Vulcan woman.

---------

Malcolm himself wrote the next one up, after a particularly interesting conversation he'd had with Crewman McArthur that morning.

**178. You snorkel in the sea, not in your shower. **

Scots, Malcolm decided, were crazy.

---------

And, after witnessing said Ensign's lunchtime activities, Reed was back.

**179. Or in your soup. **

---------

Malcolm had been there at the origin of the next one – the look of horror and disbelief on his Captain's face had been… amusing, to say the least.

**180. Skydiving from the shuttlepods, unless you're trying to give Captain Archer a heart-attack, is not recommended. **

"It was _horrible,_" Jon moaned from beside Reed. "I never want to see _anything _like that again."

"I agree," Malcolm murmured, and pulled out a pen.

**181. And even if you have to, for God's sake, wear clothes! **

The sight of Doctor Phlox jumping naked out of a shuttlepod was one that Malcolm would pay a large sum of money to have erased from his memory. Permanently.

---------

The next three went up after a particularly… intriguing alien encounter.

They'd gotten a slightly panicked call from an Ensign in Cargo Bay Two, saying that a blue box had just appeared on the ship. And that three people had emerged from it and were talking very loudly, very fast. And that could someone please get down here and help out?

Said three people had turned out to be relatively pleasant, until one of McArthur's practical jokes had gone wrong again, and they'd been drenched in thick, sticky, neon green slime.

Trip was still trying to fix the damage one of the three had caused with a funny-looking tube that flashed blue.

Leading to the next three.

**182. Don't piss off Doctors in blue boxes. **

**183. Or their blonde, Cockney companions. **

**184. And don't call their American companions "Captain Cactus", even if their hair's gone all spiky. **

It _had _been pretty spiky, Malcolm reflected. And, when covered in green slime, "Captain Cactus" had looked remarkably like… well, a cactus.

---------

The Science Department had been bored.

**185. Vibrating Maltesers are henceforth forbidden. **

"What the…"

---------

Malcolm raised one eyebrow in perplexity at the latest offering.

**186. You may not train florescent ants to dance in your eyebrows. **

"Okaaaaaay," he murmured, before pulling out a pen and beginning to scrawl, still casting worried glances at the slightly scary number 186.

**187. Which reminds me. Hallucinogens are still forbidden. Pay attention you lot! **

---------

Trip was stood beside Malcolm, sniggering, as the Tactical Officer scribbled the next one up angrily.

**188. You are not allowed to discuss the sexual prowess of your senior officers. **

"Mal, it _is _kinda your fault," Trip pointed out. Helpfully.

Malcolm ground his teeth. "It was _not _my fault," he refuted firmly. "I have no idea why Hoshi has gone all cold on me."

Trip was having trouble keeping a straight face.

Reed glared at him. "She did _not _have to do… _that._" He gestured at his addition to the List.

"Mal, Mal, Mal, Mal." Trip shook his head. "You nicked her _chocolate_. Never a good move."

And Malcolm glared even more.

---------

**189. You are not allowed to give new recruits homework. **

Malcolm shot Jon a quizzical look.

The Captain groaned. "Crewman Tate," he moaned. "Said he was late to duty this morning 'cause he had to finish an essay on Zephram Cochrane." Jon rubbed futilely at his temples. "Refused to tell me who for." Muttering under his breath to himself, he moved off, collected a mug of industrial-strength coffee and meandered out of the Mess.

Malcolm just smiled evilly.

---------

_Another _pear-shaped away mission prompted the next rule.

**190. Ceremonial soapy blackberries are generally supposed to stay that way. **

Yes, the Ilithians had been most perturbed when Trip had picked up a blackberry-esque fruit (central to their religion) that was covered in soap suds. The engineer had happily cleaned the berry up and handed it back to the chief priest, commenting that it was clean now.

They'd been chased with pitchforks all the way back to the shuttle.

Trip winced as he appeared beside Malcolm and read the new rule. "Who knew someone could get so worked up about a _blackberry_…" he muttered to himself, irritated.

Malcolm just smirked, and added another mental notch to his record of "How Many Times Commander Tucker Screws Up An Away Mission", before wandering off, leaving the List for another day.

---------


	11. Part Eleven

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st chapter.

Heh. Me nuts.

And I capitulated to popular demand… No more naked Phlox! I agree, it's not a nice image…

Right, I've discovered a new method of writing these rules. Give me a verb and a noun, and I'll make something barmy out of them. It works – the next twenty were the result of my friends shouting nouns and verbs at me at Enrichment on Friday.

Which reminds me: my profound thanks go to Georgia (and her sexy nose!), Carrie (my valiant Scots will beat your puny Dragons!), Zoë (have a fish… I am working for my gardener!) and Louise (or Beethoven, or Gwen, or Invictus Maneo!). I love my friends!

And, by the way, I've started writing a spin off of sorts to this – "How Commander Tucker Screws Up Away Missions", using the rules referring to Trip screwing up away missions in "Things…" and elaborating… Should be good! Keep an eye out for that one! And thanks go to **I am No Dartboard** for the idea, that I inadvertently came up with... You're brilliant!

So many people R&R-ed the last chapter – I was kinda shocked! Please keep it up guys, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01 

T'Pol had decided, firmly, once and for all, that the crew of the _Enterprise _were mad. And the newest contribution to the purportedly infamous List, which she was current stood in front of, merely confirmed that (fully scientific) observation.

**191. You cannot cut circular holes in the bottom of shuttlepods with your nose. So don't try. **

The Vulcan raised one eyebrow, and turned to the snickering human beside her. "Commander?" she inquired.

Trip coughed. "I think Travis got kinda high on the last away mission…"

Internally, T'Pol shook her head. Externally, her eyebrow merely arched higher. "Indeed."

---------

She found herself writing the next one up, in logically neat handwriting – it would not do for the crew to be unable to read her perfectly sensible warning.

**192. It is inadvisable to leap off fire escapes. **

She neatly placed the lid back on her pen, and silently wished for pockets in her catsuit, before regarding her line with trepidation.

It had been Commander Tucker… once again. To his credit, he had been being chased by overly-appreciative alien females.

Again.

T'Pol sighed, just a little.

---------

**193. Trying to teach alien animals how to play trumpets, even if they are fluffy bunnies, is not advisable. **

That explained the unusual bite marks on Major O'Neill's hands and arms after his last away mission.

T'Pol mentally added the MACOs to the 'insane' box in her mind.

---------

The next one was a continuation after O'Neill's _next _away mission.

**194. Or try to teach turkeys to dance! Come on! **

_Indeed, _T'Pol thought. _Most illogical. _

---------

Captain Archer's annoyed scrawl, already a common handwriting on the List, signified the Captain's next quibble with his crew.

**195. For crying out loud! You are not allowed to hang local policemen upside down in trees! They don't appreciate it, and then I have to clean up your mess! **

To be fair, T'Pol reflected, it had been Ensign Sato in her role as translator and Sergeant Pargeter, the overeager MACO in question, who had received most of the flak. But that was a minor point.

It had been mildly amusing to witness the Quataran law-enforcement officer, tentacles akimbo, hanging upside down from a fifty-foot tree.

Mildly amusing, indeed.

---------

The Security department and the MACOs had got bored, and decided to play with some of Chef's food supplies.

**196. Exploding melons are not funny! **

T'Pol was glad that the Feud had died down almost completely, and the ship was no longer rife with practical jokes. Organising such pranks had been entertaining to begin with, but when she had been locked out of Trip's quarters and had had to sleep in a room that was hovering around zero degrees, it had begun to get a little tedious.

But now, with Lieutenant Reed and Major O'Neill working together, mayhem was certainly not far away.

It _irked_ her.

---------

**197. You may not marinade pom-poms in orange juice. **

T'Pol decided she was better off left in the dark.

---------

T'Pol almost shuddered at the memory of the next one. She was trained to tolerate offensive and dangerous situations, but this… Her mouth twisted in distaste as she read the rule.

**198. Wearing turquoise, purple and neon orange body paint, and nothing else, to your duty shift is not acceptable! **

She hurriedly left the Mess Hall, heading to her quarters to meditate and hopefully wipe the offending image from her mind.

---------

Evidently, one warning wasn't enough.

**199. Or crimson, neon green and violet! **

T'Pol was glad she hadn't been stationed on the Bridge that morning.

---------

But still, the culprit persisted.

**200. McARTHUR!! **

---------

Said Crewman stopped.

**201. Thank you. My God, thank you! **

T'Pol suppressed a sigh of utmost relief.

---------

Trip was the cause of the next rule, written up a few days after Crewman McArthur started wearing clothes (voluntarily) again. He had been cooped up in Sickbay (again) after being shot (again) on an away mission. Again.

So, in order to alleviate his cabin fever, he'd decided to have a culture exchange with Phlox.

**202. Don't teach Phlox to "walk like an Egyptian"! **

T'Pol raised one eyebrow. Such a phenomenon had been… interesting to say the least. Phlox had waddled onto the Bridge, walking almost-sideways, one hand before him, one hand behind, had sidled up to Captain Archer and given him the full Denobulan grin – the one humans found so disturbingly.

Archer had merely coughed, surprised.

T'Pol raised one eyebrow.

At least the good doctor had worn clothes.

---------

**203. An offering of a free re-plastering service is not an appropriate trade item! **

A highly illogical offer.

No wonder other races were so reluctant to made links with Earth, if _Enterprise _was the planet's foremost representative. As far as potential allies could see, the entire ship were mad.

Privately, T'Pol agreed with the potential allies.

---------

It had been Trip. Again.

**204. I don't care if you were under the influence of an alien drug, you are not allowed to try and persuade bins to backflip! **

The engineer had got himself taken to a local mental asylum, under heavy guard, until Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed had persuaded the asylum officials that _Enterprise _could take care of the "mentally-disturbed" Commander.

The Vulcan wasn't entirely sure they could.

---------

After the latest slew of new recruits, Ensign Sato had added a piece of advice.

**205. If in doubt, break out the puppy-dog eyes. **

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "A childish method of persuasion," she commented to the Ensign, stood beside her.

Hoshi giggled. "Hey, if it isn't broken…"

"Do not fix it," T'Pol completed absently. "Indeed."

The two of them were interrupted by Liz Cutler, with a pen and a smirk.

**206. Especially if dealing with a stubborn Captain or Chief Engineer.**

The three women exchanged a glance, and a private smile.

---------

**207. You are not Robin Hood. **

Surprisingly, it hadn't been Trip this time.

It had been Lieutenant Reed who had, upon witnessing the unfair execution of a group of alien locals, had whipped out his phase pistol and shot them down from the scaffold, yelling something involving "No crime worth more than a spell in the stocks" and "Will you tolerate this? I will not!"

T'Pol made a mental note to ask Phlox to check for alien interference with the Lieutenant next time he was in Sickbay.

---------

**208. Or Batman! **

T'Pol hurriedly left the Mess, heading for Sickbay and an urgent conversation with Doctor Phlox concerning a certain Tactical Officer.

---------

Alien sabotage and general crew incompetence had been the cause of the next one.

**209. Plasticine that bleeps manically is usually bad. So don't touch! **

Despite being a self-professed explosives expert, Major O'Neill did have a surprising lack of anything even _resembling _common sense.

---------

After witnessing a particularly disturbing incident at lunch, T'Pol was at the List, pen in hand.

**210. Please refrain from stabbing strawberries and yoghurts with a fork crying "Die, alien fiend, die!" **

Captain Archer appeared beside her, nodding his head, a distinctly sick look on his face. "McArthur is scary." He sounded, T'Pol noted, distinctly like a five-year-old.

Worrying.

"If these are Starfleet's finest…" Jon continued, shaking his head in pain. "I hate to think what the _hell _is going on back on Earth!"

T'Pol raised both eyebrows. "Indeed," she murmured, before turning on her heel and leaving the madness of the NX-01 to its own devices.

---------


	12. Part Twelve

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st part.

Right. Numbers 219-222 are to be credited to **burrcat213**, and number 228 to **panfriedcatfish** (yeah, I know – I got them ages ago, but hey… if it works).

R&R feeds the Muse, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Hoshi Sato, linguist extraordinaire, squeaked.

Quite loud, quite high. Quite early too. Fortunately there was no one else in the Mess Hall – if there had been, she might have got a bit of a yelling at. But, as it was, there was no one else there.

Except the all-powerful List. Which had a new addition.

**211. Don't praise the senior staff. Their heads are big enough already, thank you very much. **

Hoshi propped her fists on her hips and pouted. "No fair," she mumbled. "I _like _praise…"

---------

The next one was up when Hoshi went for lunch.

**212. Break-ups are not to be conducted in public places.**

Malcolm folded his arms, stood at her shoulder. "Quite right too," he muttered to himself.

"What happened?" Hoshi quizzed.

Reed sniffed. "A couple of Trip's engineers," he replied. "They'd been dating for a couple of months, and they split up recently." He shrugged. "Nothing much."

Hoshi raised one eyebrow and tapped the rule.

He rolled his eyes. "_Fine. _She got annoyed with him. They were at lunch. She had a custard pie—"

"A _custard _pie?" Hoshi interrupted, incredulous.

Malcolm nodded. "A custard pie," he agreed. He sniffed. "Suffice to say, he ended up a bit… sticky."

Hoshi giggled. "Tell you what…" she mused, drawing out a pen.

**213. Or with custard pies! **

---------

Jon was up with the next one.

**214. Speaking only in dead languages just to piss off your Captain is not funny. **

Again, Hoshi giggled.

Trip wandered over, coffee in hand. "What've you been up to then?" he queried, smirking.

"Oh, nothing much," Hoshi replied nonchalantly, waving a hand. "Me and Crewman Yale just had a bit of a conversation on the Bridge this morning. That's all."

Trip waited patiently.

Hoshi looked sheepish. "In… Ancient Greek."

Trip smirked and shook his head. "Jon never mentioned his… aversion to classical languages before, did he?"

Hoshi grinned. "Nope."

Trip shook his head. "Lay off the classics, Ensign," he advised, still grinning.

---------

**215. Or in Vulcan! **

"I'm surprised how little persuasion T'Pol took to join in," Hoshi remarked conversationally to Trip.

He shook his head, again. "The Feud helped her to get our sense o' humour a bit better," the engineer replied.

Hoshi sniffed. "I miss the Feud."

"I don't," Trip muttered.

---------

Hoshi ran into Trip again as he was writing the next one up. She stopped her headlong dash to investigate the rumours of Chef's ridiculously indulgent chocolate cake and peered over the engineer's shoulder.

**216. Hero-worship is hereby forbidden. **

"Commander?"

Trip shivered. "A couple of the newbies," he informed her, before shuddering again. "They had a _shrine_," he whispered, horrified.

Hoshi giggled.

---------

The Ensign winced at the next one, having witnessed the cause behind the rule.

**217. Do not, I repeat, do not let Tiddles have sugar! **

Henderson and Trip had brought Tiddles to the Mess Hall while they went over some theoretical schematics they'd concocted. Tiddles, getting bored, had taken to roaming the room, nipping people's ankles and growling.

Until he'd met McArthur.

The Scottish Crewman, on a crazy whim, had put an _entire _bowl of sugar on the floor – Tiddles had attacked it with relish.

Minutes later, the whole crew had got a first-hand witness of exactly what a hyperactive sabretooth tiger looked like – Chef had already complained about the inch-deep fang marks in the Mess Hall tables.

Hoshi shook her head.

Security had had to be called – Tiddles was still confined to the Brig until the sugar wore off.

And McArthur had received yet _another _reprimand from the Captain.

---------

Hoshi found herself writing the next one up, by request of Liz Cutler, who was currently holed up in her quarters, avoiding contact with the outside world.

**218. If someone's writing a story that you like/obsess about/worship, don't bug them to "update!update!update!" – do you want to give them a nervous breakdown?! **

"Hoshi?" Malcolm asked, frowning.

She sighed. "Liz has got this weird 'FanFiction' thing going on – half the crew subscribes. Apparently the latest chapter had some kinda cliff-hanger, and everywhere she goes people have been screaming '_update!_' at her."

"Ah."

Hoshi nodded. "Poor girl had to get sedatives from Phlox last night when someone got into the comm system and hissing '_update… update…_' all night."

Malcolm coughed and refused to meet her gaze.

She rounded on him. "Malcolm!"

---------

On a recent call-back to Earth, Captain Archer had taken about three-quarters of the crew (including the entire senior staff – Trip wouldn't say how he'd managed to persuade T'Pol to go) on a trip to the West End of London, after going through many, many, _many _private channels to get sixty-odd tickets to the musical _'We Will Rock You'. _

Hoshi would have preferred _'Les Mis'_, but hey.

Jon had regretted such a decision after he had been slumped low in his seat with a baseball cap tugged over his eyes, trying to hide, for almost the _entire _performance.

It hadn't helped that the next day it was all over the British tabloids, either.

But now that leave was over and _Enterprise _was back out among the stars, Jon vented his frustration and embarrassment in the time honoured fashion – on the List.

**219. When I take you to see '_We Will Rock You' _you are not allowed to stand up and sing along at the top of your lungs! It is damn embarrassing! **

Hoshi giggled.

Jon, beside her with pen still in hand, sighed. "It is _not _funny, Ensign," he replied sharply.

She blanked her features. "Even if it's _Queen _songs, sir?"

He groaned.

**220. Even if it's _Queen _songs! **

Hoshi smirked, and Jon moaned. He beat a hasty retreat to the doors of the Mess, and Hoshi waved after him.

Because, after Jon had exited the Dominion Theatre, moaning in embarrassment and agony, she had Trip had spearheaded a mission back inside, and they'd decided afterwards that they _probably _shouldn't have done that. And that they needed to warn the others not to do it.

Right on cue, Trip appeared, pen in hand.

**221. And just because we work on _Enterprise_, we are not automatically allowed backstage to see the stars. **

Hoshi plucked the pen from the engineer's hand.

**222. Even if they don't actually care that we waltzed in without permission. **

A hand reached over her shoulder and took the pen – she glanced back, startled. Malcolm was behind her, grinning uncharacteristically. With one hand on her hip he scribbled up a final warning.

**223. McArthur. This means you. **

Hoshi giggled and Trip guffawed.

"I overheard him this morning," Malcolm commented blandly. "He was planning to sneak the _other _quarter of the crew backstage next time we're back on Earth." Malcolm wrinkled his nose. "He mentioned something about 'whipped cream' and 'practical jokes' as well…"

Hoshi nodded sagely. "A wise precaution, Mister Reed."

He rolled his eyes at her, and Trip smirked.

---------

The Captain was back.

**224. You are not allowed to refuse to work in response to the Powers That Be cancelling your favourite show back on Earth! **

Major O'Neill had managed to organise an almost shipwide boycott of _everything. _

Hoshi was privately surprised that he'd been organised enough to get it done – then again, he was a MACO.

But the Captain had _not _been amused; even less so when O'Neill gave him his usual smartarse response.

**225. Even if it's an "historically accurate method of persuasion"! It didn't help the Germans; it won't help you! **

Hoshi turned to Jon. "But it _did_, sir," he reprimanded. "They resurrected it!"

Jon groaned and banged his head against the bulkhead.

The linguist smirked.

---------

It had been a raging debate between Malcolm and Trip that had sparked the next one. At least half the crew had gathered in the Mess to watch them yelling at each other.

Hoshi rolled her eyes as she wrote the next rule up.

**226. Don't argue over who'll win the Football World Cup! **

She wasn't quite sure why the Tactical Officer and the Chief Engineer had got so worked up over a bunch of guys kicking a ball around a lawn, but they had. Apparently it was England against America in the final (how in hell either team had managed to get that far was quite beyond the Asian Ensign), and the two friends had got a bit angry with each other.

Hoshi could feel an impending headache.

---------

**227. Or who won! **

Trip and Malcolm were refusing to speak to one another.

Hoshi resisted the urge to follow her illustrious Captain's example and bash her head against the bulkhead. "Boys…" she groaned.

---------

Travis was next – Hoshi wasn't entirely sure _where _this one had come from.

**228. If it's stupid but works, it isn't stupid. **

She shrugged. "Fair enough…"

Travis, beside her, just shook violently. She gave him a funny look.

---------

One of Trip's engineers had started saying some funny things, and the trend had caught on, spreading like wildfire over the ship. The Captain had got a bit annoyed with them, seeing as they made _no _sense. At all.

**229. When something good/brilliant/amazing happens, you are not allowed to punch the air and yell, "All hail Coto!" **

_Especially if there's someone stood above you, _Hoshi mused. Apparently Trip had been checking a simulation over said engineer's shoulder, and when it had finished with perfect readings, the other engineer had punched the air and yelled, "All hail Coto!"

Trip had ended up in Sickbay with a broken nose.

Hoshi shook her head, smiled, and read the next one – the _second _saying that the unnamed engineer had spread around the ship.

**230. And when everything goes to hell, you may not hang your head and moan, "Oh no, it's the Beebs…" **

They'd come out of warp, stupidly, in the middle of an asteroid field. Travis, on seeing this, had muttered something along the lines of "those bloody Beebs…"

Archer had literally gone purple, and had begun muttering what sounded like prayers to God, Jesus, Satan and (oddly enough) Admiral Gardner.

Hoshi rolled her eyes. "This ship is nuts."

---------


	13. Part Thirteen

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st part.

Okay. **MuseUrania** to thank for the noun-and-verb that sparked numbers 238 and 239, and **krisevalkyrite** for number 240. Thanks!

And you've all died again... Oh well. Life goes on.

R&R is blessed to the Muse, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

When he'd first been confirmed as the pilot of _Enterprise_, Travis Mayweather had entertained doubts as to what his crewmates would be like – in a long and irritated conversation with his mother he'd fretted that they'd be a bunch of stuck up prunes who would court-martial him for cracking a joke.

Four years, and the infamous List, had sent _that_ absurd notion to a quick death.

Travis smirked as he spotted an addition to the List of misdemeanours and malpractices, and wandered over.

**231. Under normal circumstances baked beans aren't dangerous. In tins, they are. **

Malcolm appeared beside Travis (why the Tactical Officer was up this early, Travis didn't want to know) and read the rule. The Brit couldn't exactly miss the Ensign's massive grin, and so he sighed. "What did you do _this _time?"

Travis attempted to look innocent and failed miserably. "Nothing, sir," he replied quickly. "It's not like _I _helped McArthur set up a booby-trap for the Captain, with green slime and twenty cans of baked beans…"

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Sure. And that would have _nothing_ to do with why the Captain is currently in Sickbay with an egg-sized lump on his head and a concussion?"

Travis nodded earnestly. "You got it, Lieutenant!"

Malcolm sighed.

Travis laughed.

---------

As far as the boomer knew, another away mission disaster had prompted the next one.

**232. Grudges stay on the ship. **

Jon shook his head. "I _really _shouldn't have to say that," he complained. "Wanted con-artist, indeed…"

Travis's eyebrows shot up. "Sir?"

"I am _not _talking about it."

"Oh. Okay." Travis waited until Archer disappeared into his private Mess with a mug of industrial-strength coffee and a stack of status reports, and then went in search of Hoshi, gossip-maestro extraordinaire.

---------

Travis was almost sent flying by Commander Tucker as the engineer stormed into the Mess Hall and made a bee-line for the List, pen in hand. The entire Mess went quiet and watched him in awed silence – the pilot just followed him and peered over his shoulder.

**233. Mistletoe only applies on the 25th of December – don't you dare tell any alien crew-members unfamiliar with the tradition otherwise! **

"Commander?"

"Cocky jackass," Trip muttered angrily. "Tryin' to get it on with _my _girl…"

Travis bit his lip. _That _was why the newly-transferred beta-shift pilot had turned up at the Helm yesterday with a massive grin on his face and a black eye.

---------

The Captain was in a bad mood.

**234. "Death by Archer" is not fair. **

"Awww," Hoshi cooed. "Poor boy."

Travis snickered. "Who said that?"

Hoshi thought. "Not sure. It might have been McArthur though…"

The boomer shook his head. "The Captain's right though – it's hardly fair. He's not _that _boring."

"Unless he starts going on about gazelles," Hoshi commented.

Travis pondered that, and then acquiesced. "Or water polo."

---------

There were three new rules up the next time Travis checked.

**235. You may not dress up as the Easter Bunny. **

**236. Or the Tooth Fairy! **

**237. Even if "Major O'Neill and the scary MACOs" made you! **

Travis shuddered in horror at the terrible memories – suffice to say, it had been a dare gone wrong for _Enterprise_'s Chief Engineer and Tactical Officer. Pictures of Trip in a mini tutu, complete with wand, stilettos and wings and Malcolm dressed as what Hoshi informed him was a 'Playboy bunny' had already been circulated to the entirety of _Enterprise_, and most of Starfleet.

Vulcan and Andoria were next.

---------

**238. Just because winged aliens did it, doesn't mean you can do it too. **

Travis squinted. "Huh?"

Phlox appeared behind him, with a pen and a smirk.

**239. The Captain does not appreciate being bitten! **

"Doctor?"

"McArthur."

"Ah."

---------

The boomer shook his head. "We've done this before. I swear."

Trip smiled. "Yep." He tapped number 122. "'Lieutenant Reed is not 'Bond, James Bond' no matter what he says.'" Trip shook his head. "Boy, has he changed his tune…"

As far as Travis could work out, Malcolm had persuaded Trip to schedule a marathon of James Bond movies for Movie Night (again), and the resulting kerfuffle had sent Reed into an irate huff and had sparked the next rule.

**240. It is inadvisable to ask Lieutenant Reed if he would like it "shaken or stirred". **

"Yes!" Malcolm exclaimed. "That is a line reserved only for _Bond himself. _I, however much it pains me to admit it, am not Bond." Malcolm went misty-eyed. "Oh, the rugged good-looks of such wonderful actors who have portrayed him – Roger Moore, Pierce Brosnan, Daniel Craig and, the original, Sean Connery. Oh, Connery will never be topped!"

Travis and Trip exchanged a worried glance.

"The explosions! The cars! The scenery! The women!"

Travis twirled a finger next to his ear, mouthing _"Crazy" _at Commander Tucker. Trip responded with a slightly-scared nod.

"Oh, such a pinnacle of excellence that could only be achieved by…" Malcolm pressed his hand to his heart "…an Englishman." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Yes, thank you, thank you… I'll be here all week."

He wandered off, and out of the Mess.

Trip and Travis stared after him in stunned silence.

---------

Travis smirked as he saw the next one.

**241. You may not furiously make out with a fellow crew-member just because you're jealous of the local floozy. **

"Fair enough."

**242. Hoshi. **

Travis snickered.

According to the Captain, because of the Security Officer's… distracted state the away team had been attacked, mugged and very nearly ransomed.

Malcolm hadn't been complaining though.

---------

**243. "Tiddles ate my report" is no longer to be used as an excuse. **

"Yeah." Trip frowned. "He's getting waaaaaay too many padds building up in his stomach… The Doc says he might get sick."

Travis bit his lip.

---------

Travis caught Jon writing the next one up.

**244. You may not make scale models of Klingon ships just to shoot at them. It wastes ship's resources. **

"Plus, have you _seen _the gleeful look on Malcolm's face?! It's terrifying!"

The Captain retreated to his private Mess, shaking his head and muttering, as Lieutenant Reed entered the room. Travis beckoned the Tactical Officer over, and the Brit sulked as he read the rule. "Damnit…"

"Doesn't say anything about _Suliban _ships…" Travis observed offhandedly.

Malcolm paused, grinned, and cackled evilly.

---------

**245. Or Suliban ships! **

"Xindi?"

---------

**246. F'crying out loud! No enemy ships! **

"Travis?"

"I'm thinking… What about Vulcan?"

"You're a genius, my friend. Care to join me on the rifle range?"

"Don't mind if I do…"

---------

**247. Travis! Don't join in! And just don't make scale models of ships to shoot at them, okay?! **

Commander Tucker glared at Malcolm and Travis sternly. "The Cap'n is currently recoverin' in Sickbay from the stress that you two put him through. I hope you're proud of yourselves."

Travis resisted the urge to reply with a smarmy "Yes, I am" that would have put Trip himself to shame.

---------

And just _after _the Captain had been released from Sickbay…

**248. You may not terrorise your Captain with sharpened carrots! **

"And back in Sickbay he goes…" Travis observed.

Trip shook his head. "He's like a damn yo-yo…" The engineer waved a stern finger in Travis's face. "No more, okay!"

---------

The next ones were just _mad. _

**249. You are not allowed to tell any new alien races we come across that Earth is populated by "manic sultanas who incessantly chant battle cries while hammering clothes pegs into cellos"! **

**250. Or that we are fleeing on _Enterprise _to escape them! **

"Lemme guess. McArthur?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Nope."

Travis frowned. "Really? Trip, then."

"No."

"Hoshi?"

"Nah."

"Phlox?"

"Nope."

"O'Neill?"

"No."

"The Captain?"

"Nooooo."

"Who then?"

Malcolm smirked. "T'Pol."

Travis gaped. "_What?!_"

---------


	14. Part Fourteen

Disclaimer etc.: see 1st part.

A special thanks to **itsonlyme** for numbers 258-261 (I tweaked them a little – hope you don't mind).

And I apologise, again, for the massively long wait between updates. RL has been mad, and the Muse vanished. -growls at Muse- But yeah.

R&R is a boon sent from above, and enjoy!

Things Not To Do On the NX-01

Phlox was smiling widely as he bounced his way into the Mess Hall, despite the early hour. He'd had quite an enjoyable night – Commander Tucker was once again confined to Sickbay, at the insistence of both Captain Archer and Commander T'Pol, and the blond engineer had developed quite a case of cabin fever – purposefully, Phlox was quite sure.

So the good doctor had had to remain awake all night – not that he _could _sleep anyway; not with that horrendous off-key singing.

He'd finally resorted to warbling a little ditty of his own, and he'd left Trip curled up on a bio-bed, moaning and clutching his ears in agony, as he went to visit Chef and pick up a little something for breakfast.

It was there that he noticed the infamous List had grown.

**251. Admiral Gardner is not god, no matter what Captain Archer says. **

Indeed, Phlox had noticed the Captain mumbling prayers to Gardner under his breath once before – a strange development, to say the least. He would have expected Archer's idol to be someone like Zephram Cochrane, or his father, but no. The Captain appeared to have fixated on the good Admiral.

Phlox wondered if Archer was in fact, as the human saying went, "in the closet". That would explain his penchant for physical contact with a certain Chief Engineer.

He resolved to warn T'Pol – he didn't think the Vulcan would take kindly to her commanding officer encroaching on her territory.

---------

It was lunchtime before the next one made its appearance.

**252. 'Shipper wars are heavily discouraged. **

Phlox's forehead furrowed, and he turned to Hoshi. " 'Shipper wars?" he questioned.

Sato smirked. "It's an old Earth term," she explained. "It means someone who supports a particular relationship in a fictional media." She shook black hair back over one shoulder and glanced up at the List. "But sometimes it can get a bit… heated between people who 'ship one couple and people who 'ship another."

Understanding began to dawn on Phlox. "Ah…"

"They resort to all sorts of weird ways of proving the supremacy of _their _OTP, and no-one else's."

"OTP?"

"Oh, sorry. One True Pairing."

"Ah."

Hoshi nodded. "I can't remember what this one was from, but it got _very _heated."

"And this would be why I had Captain Archer in my Sickbay with a broken nose this morning?" Phlox queried.

She nodded again. "And it would _also _be why Malcolm is currently locked up in the Brig for assaulting a superior officer."

---------

The next rule was… intriguing, to say the least.

**253. Duct tape is not a suitable uniform choice.**

Trip, stood by the Denobulan's side, looked pale. "Oh God…" he mumbled, before starting to back slowly away from the List, as if it might bite him. "Oh God, oh God…"

Phlox watched him go with a slightly bemused expression on his face as Trip started clawing at his eyes.

---------

The next rule was in the same vein, and written in Commander Tucker's handwriting. Except it looked as though the engineer had been shaking violently whilst writing it – the ink was all over the place.

**254. You can't fix a warp drive with duct tape. Don't try. **

Phlox frowned. His friend seemed to have quite a problem with this 'duct tape'. He decided to ask T'Pol about it – she'd know.

---------

**255. "When in doubt, break out the duct tape" is ****not**** our motto, official or otherwise! **

The good doctor frowned, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. He rooted around in his pocket, coming up with a fluff-covered pen. He pulled the lid off, and began to write.

**256. May I ask what this ship's obsession with "duct tape" is? **

_A fair question, _he admitted to himself.

---------

**257. Phlox, you ****don't**** wanna know. **

Phlox's eyebrows shot up.

---------

Malcolm was released from the Brig (finally, amidst much mutterings from Jon), and, on the next day, Phlox met him at the List. Surveying the Armoury Officer's slightly-singed uniform, the Denobulan looked quizzically at Reed.

At the doctor's unspoken question, Malcolm sighed heavily. "I believe McArthur has found himself a new partner-in-crime," he explained.

"Lieutenant?"

"One of the Crewmen in the Armoury," Malcolm said. "Crewman Harriman." He shuddered.

Phlox hid a smile. "What'd he do?"

In answer, Malcolm turned to the List, and began to write.

**258. Crewman Harriman + fire is a very, very bad idea. **

**259. Crewman Harriman + alcohol is an even worse idea. **

**260. Crewman Harriman + fire + alcohol means a ****very**** pissed off Lieutenant Reed! **

A snaked in from over Malcolm's shoulder and took the pen. Phlox glanced back, startled, and came face-to-face with a very weary-looking Trip. The engineer began to write.

**261. Serenading Commander Tucker with Beatles music when he hasn't had coffee. Just ****no**

Malcolm smirked. "Commander?"

Trip groaned. "Mal, I _told _you letting Harriman and McArthur anywhere near each other was a bad idea." He paused. "A _very _bad idea."

Phlox chuckled, and the two Starfleet crewmembers exchanged a world-weary glance.

---------

Hoshi was writing the next one up as Phlox entered the Mess – he made straight for her, and read the next addition to the List over her shoulder.

**262. I do not have "super wacky amazing SuperPowers™!"**

Phlox glanced at Sato. She pouted. "Malcolm made me write it up," she complained. Then she smirked. "He liked it though."

The Ensign turned away and made her way out of the Mess, whistling.

Phlox stared after her, trying desperately to erase _that _mental image from his mind.

---------

A hostage situation and embarrassing interplanetary incident later, Jon was at the List, thick black felt tip in hand. He was beetroot red, Phlox noticed, as the good doctor peered over the Captain's shoulder at his addition.

**263. When the Captain is in the middle of delicate negotiations on the Bridge with the latest hostile alien, you may ****not**** perform a pole dance in the background, yelling, "Yeah Jonny, you tell the b-----d!" **

Archer leaned his forehead against the wall beside the List. "McArthur," he groaned. _"Why?" _

Phlox patted the Captain's shoulder in a comradely fashion. He sympathised. The Scottish crewman's antics had resulted in the Captain being transported directly off the Bridge and into the bowels of that same hostile alien's ship.

---------

There had been rejoicing in the Armoury recently – something to do with a new shipment of weaponry from Starfleet Command. The Starfleet Security boys and the MACOs had teamed up and thrown a massive rave in the Armoury, much to Jon's chagrin.

But that wasn't what had made the next rule.

**264. Don't let Lieutenant Reed and/or Major O'Neill at the whisky. **

Phlox grinned his disturbingly wide grin. Harriman and McArthur—the two troublemakers were now best friends, unfortunately for the rest of the crew—had managed to sneak several large bottles of whisky into the hands of the two men.

Reed and O'Neill had ended up knocking on Trip's door at two in the morning, asking, while completely hammered, if they could have a "private word" with T'Pol.

Trip had slammed the door on them, and then called Security.

Unfortunately the entire Security contingent were drunk too.

So he'd called round some of his burliest engineers and had the pair of them dragged to the Brig. And then, when he'd found out who'd been to blame, he'd had them dragged to the Brig as well.

The doctor smiled happily. He loved this ship.

---------

**265. Travis, you are not the Stig. **

Phlox blinked.

---------

**266. 'Ensign' does ****not**** equate to 'Empress'. **

Phlox raised one eyebrow and turned to Reed (released from the Brig, again). "Lieutenant?"

Malcolm smirked. "Hoshi had a strange dream – she's now convinced she's an Empress in an alternate reality, and subsequently refuses to answer to anything but 'Empress Sato'." The smirk blossomed into a full-out grin. "The look the Captain gets is _very _entertaining – crimson has _nothing _on him."

Phlox shook his head, fighting the smile that was threatening to split his face in two.

---------

The Denobulan was with T'Pol when he saw the next one – up the day after Earth had been saved from alien invasion, again.

**267. Movies marathons the night before a mission of vital importance to Earth's security are stupid. **

Phlox shook his head in bemusement. "The things these humans will do," he mused, expecting a comment in agreement from his Vulcan companion.

She said nothing.

He glanced over at her. Her lips were curved in an honest-to-God _smirk. _

"T'Pol?"

She didn't answer, just turned tail and walked away, hands clasped at the small of her back, to Commander Tucker, who was waiting by the door.

Trip smirked at Phlox and then he and T'Pol left the Mess.

Phlox was flummoxed. The engineer was having a _huge _affect on T'Pol. _'Movie marathons'? Oh, my. _

---------

Phlox found himself writing the next rule up, a few days later.

**268. You cannot fire Doctor Phlox's animals. **

'Batman and Robin' (as the senior officers had taken to calling McArthur and Harriman) had been at it again – hanging around in Sickbay and telling his Pyrithian Bat that she had been "neglecting her duties" and that they'd "have to let her go".

He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

A hand plucked the pen from his grasp and scribbled up two words.

**269. Or Tiddles. **

Phlox glanced at Henderson, and the two shared a long-suffering look.

---------

All Phlox knew was that Hoshi had got some new shoes.

**270. "Mmm, bright red, ankle-high Converse…" is ****not**** a suitable response when asked a question by your Captain. **

Jon, stood beside the Denobulan, groaned. "Do you _have _any idea how irritating that is?" he asked, pain flooding his voice.

"I, ah, can't say I do, actually," Phlox answered.

"Hmm." Jon looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for some ancient god's deliverance. "Y'know, I miss the days when this ship was purely serious – flying through the universe as scientists and explorers. When we had no prank wars, no alien sabretooth tigers, and no Batman and Robin."

Phlox smiled gently. "No, you don't."

Jon glanced back at the Denobulan, and grinned. "You're right. No, I don't."

---------


End file.
